


Against the Tide

by Gemini_Sweet



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, F/F, Freeform, mermaid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-11 13:11:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 63,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11715078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini_Sweet/pseuds/Gemini_Sweet
Summary: Asami takes a vacation to unwind and de-stress. Things don’t go as planned.***After successfully steering her family’s company out of scandal, Asami finds herself bound to solving a mystical crisis deep in the frigid waters of the South Sea – and falling fast for a brash mermaid with blue eyes.





	1. Uninvited Guest

Asami struggled against the handle of the winch, the harpoon line straining against the weight of the unseen fish thrashing in the freezing water below her boat. As soon as she’d sunk the dart into the side of the extremely large silver swimmer, the damned thing began swimming frantically into deeper waters. She wished, for the first time, that she’d invited someone else on this trip with her to help reel in the unruly fish.

Gritting her teeth, she put her weight into the crank, holding steady as she felt the line rock against the evasive maneuvers of her finned foe.

“Just … have… to… wait… you… out,” Asami grunted to herself. Sweat trickled down her back underneath her layers, the icy breeze chilling her. She frowned and forced herself to breathe evenly, giving her muscles the oxygen they needed to win this battle.

“I will _not_ … be bested… by a _fish_ ,” she growled.

Green eyes watched the line strain, the pulley arm bowing slightly to prevent the line from snapping. It was damn near indestructible line; her company used it to secure historical prototypes to the ceiling of the lobby. The first Future Industries biplane hung over the heads of millions each year, suspended by a few strands of high tension line. Asami was shocked to see it actually _stretching_ against the opposing forces of predator and prey.

Suddenly, she pitched forward, nearly cracking her ribs against the crank. Quick reflexes saved her from more than a banged knee (she silently thanked the spirits for all those years of defensive arts lessons) and she started rapidly reeling in the harpoon line. Her arms and back burned and she questioned (yet again) her decision to purchase a _manual_ harpoon cannon.

A glimmer of silver under the surface caught Asami’s eye, a grin slowly spreading across her face as a HUGE tuna finally breached the surface. She quickly locked the crank, unpinned the arm, and swung the tuna over the deck of the boat. She re-pinned the arm, unlocked the crank, and gently lowered her prize to the deck. She laughed and gave a whoop, pumping her mitten-gloved fist into the air.

Then her ruby red lips fell open as a pair of brown hands hoisted a naked woman’s torso over the edge of the boat’s railing.

“Hey!” The naked, brown-skinned woman yelled, her blue eyes narrowed and flashing and her chocolate eyebrows drawn together. “That’s _my_ fish!!”

The naked woman then flipped her blue-scaled tail over the railing and onto the deck, landing next to the tuna.

Asami fell back onto her butt.

“Stupid fucking humans,” the mermaid ( _THE MERMAID?!!!_ ) muttered, expertly carving out the dart of Asami’s harpoon with a sharp tool she’d extracted from the belt of shells around her well-muscled waist. “Can’t fucking fish _anywhere_ ….”

Asami stared. Her brilliant brain was spinning its wheels, trying to find a logical explanation for the mythological creature cursing under her breath on Asami’s deck. Mermaids were stories made up by delusional sailors too long at sea, too superstitious to allow women on their ships and so horny they started seeing women in the waves – and drowning themselves trying to reach those fabled water spirits.

‘ _If they saw what I’m seeing_ ,’ Asami thought, ‘ _I can understand why_.’

The mermaid was absolutely breathtaking. She sat facing Asami, the tuna between them, sea water dripping off of her. Most of her chocolate hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, a smaller pigtail framing each side of her face, bangs plastered to her furrowed brow. Her skin was a tawny caramel, smooth and flawless, flowing over ample breasts with coffee areolas and extremely well-defined musculature. Asami could make out nearly every muscle group in her upper body from shoulder to hip, where her anatomy suddenly transitioned from human to fish.

Scales in various shades of sapphire, topaz and aquamarine shined under the late afternoon sun over a solid tail about the width of two legs, tapering into a narrow point before spreading out again into two symmetrical flukes. The tips of the flukes quivered as the mermaid worked.

The dart removed, the mermaid tossed Asami’s harpoon to the side with a huff. She re-secured the tool to her belt, untied some sort of twine from around her defined upper arm, and tied it to the tuna. As the muscular mermaid secured the tuna to her own back, Asami noticed a red, fleshy hole in the other side of the fish, obviously ripped out.

‘ _Was… was she…?_ ’

The mermaid reached up and gracefully pulled herself and the tuna up, swinging her glimmering blue tail back over the water in one fluid motion. She turned her head over her shoulder, fixing Asami with blazing blue eyes. “Stay the fuck out of our waters, Two-Legs!”

“Wha-what?!” Asami sputtered, indignation bringing her back to her senses. She rushed to her feet, nearly slipping and falling (again) on the wet deck as the mermaid and her dinner went over the side with a large splash. Asami reached the railing just in time to see the mermaid give a mysterious hand signal that was clearly meant to be insulting, then dive below the surface with a loud “smack” of her tailfin.

“Hey! Hey!!” Asami shouted. “Come back here!!” She leaned over and slapped her hand on the side of the boat, knowing the vibrations would travel through the water farther than her voice.

Neither the mermaid or her tuna resurfaced.

“Fuck!” Asami huffed, scanning the water one last fruitless time. “ _Now_ what am I supposed to eat?”

Asami pouted her red lips as she folded her arms and scanned the deck. Water and fish blood was _everywhere_ , as well as an odd blue-green substance. The blue-green goo was on the deck, the harpoon, the railing. A coppery smell reached Asami’s nose and she looked down. She frowned as she noticed the gooey bluish substance on her mitten-glove. She pulled her hand away to reveal dark stains on the arms and the front of her lavender parka where she’d braced herself against the railing to yell at the extremely rude mythical creature.

“What _is_ this crap?” Asami scowled. She pursed her lips. “On second thought, I don’t want to know.”

With a heavy sigh and a rumbling stomach, Asami headed to the small supply closet by the cockpit. She’d clean the deck, then take a quick shower and change clothes before heading back to Port Arakaa for a hot meal and some sanity.


	2. Dilemma

Korra swam furiously back to her colony, tail whipping through the frigid water. A giant shark squid considered her for a second before easing back into its hiding place. Every creature in these waters knew better than to take on a mermaid in a bad mood.

Especially when that mermaid was Korra.

The blue-tailed mermaid was known throughout these waters for her quick temper and confrontational nature. She’d fought tiger sharks and shark squids and dolphin piranhas and bested them all (Though, admittedly, she’d only fought _one_ dolphin piranha. And at one point it _did_ swallow her.).

She was strong and fast, a skilled hunter with a powerful strike and deadly accuracy. Korra could swim farther and for longer than any of the other merfolk in her colony. She could track the scent and heat of prey for miles, even identify the species by the ripples their tail left in the deep water.

So, she was understandably pissed off that she hadn’t come home with anything bigger than a few juvenile icefish for the past two weeks.

Two. Fucking. Weeks.

She hissed when she clenched her fists. Her palms burned and itched as she swam. The salt water should have healed them by now, but the cuts her spear line had carved into her hands were still bleeding.

Korra frowned. She’d lost her spear and line, fighting that human for the tuna now strapped to her back. She’d won, but as she swam closer to home she wondered if it was worth the consequences. Her parents would ask questions, and the truth would land her in a volcanic vent of boiling water.

“Humans ruin _everything_ ,” Korra spat through clenched teeth.

The past few years had been hard. Her people were hungry. Some had died. And it was all because of greedy, selfish, self-centered, imbalanced _humans_.

The commercial fishing ships had increased in number and switched to smaller mesh trawling nets, catching krill along with toothfish, icefish and Southern tuna. In years past, they threw back the krill and the juvenile big fish. They were still overfishing, but it hadn’t hurt the populations too badly.

Three years ago, things changed. They stopped throwing the smaller fish back into the sea, and the ecosystem quickly fell out of balance. Now, there was too much algae in the kelp forests; there was too much dead plankton on the sea floor, reducing oxygen in the water; there were fewer and smaller big fish; and the mammals had changed their migration routes to find more food, as had the tiger sharks and shark squids that hunted them.

Unlike the other aquatic mammals, merfolk didn’t have any place else to go. The magic that sustained them only remained in the Southern Oasis, depleted from the rest of the oceans and waterways by the imbalances triggered by human consumption and “advancement”. The Northern Oasis might still exist, but with so little magic in between the two no one would survive the journey. No one had heard from the Northern Oasis in a generation.

Korra and her merfolk were caught between two impossible choices: starvation or suffocation.

When Korra was a child, she believed it was impossible for merfolk to drown. She knew better now, knew that humans had created a device that disrupted the magic, stranded merfolk in the deep where they couldn’t make it to the surface in time to breathe air.

And that fucking Two-Legs had one of those damned devices on her fish-stealing yacht.

She thought of green eyes and black hair. She pulled her lips into a tight line and whipped her tail faster.

As she swam into the deeper water, Korra’s skin, scales and eyes began to glow blue, lighting her way in the dark. She streaked through the water, a blue trail of evanescence in her wake. She banked at the third underwater volcano and hurtled into the deep inky black of a craggy tunnel. Small deep-water creatures parted as she swam past, some spinning in dizzy circles from the turbulence of her tail.

Her eyes nearly glowed white at the darkest point of the tunnel. She followed its twists and turns as it suddenly angled upwards. She headed toward the growing patch of warm yellow light above her.

Korra’s dark hair and brown torso finally surfaced. She flung her bangs out of her eyes, her three kite-tails slapping against her head and shoulders. She winced at the burn of her lungs and tail after swimming so long and fast; it was getting harder to breathe in the low-oxygen deep water. Panting slightly, she swam toward the beach.

A group of merfolk were already gathered around the fire, jeweled scales from silver to amethyst sparkling in the sun. A swordfish turned on the spit, the aroma causing Korra’s stomach to growl. The rest of the colony should be returning soon with their catches before they communed for dinner.

Korra was glad she’d brought more than a few small icefish, but she was accustomed to hauling home two or three tuna twice the size of the one strapped to her back. With that meddling human woman around, she couldn’t swim close to the ocean floor where most of the big game dwelled during the day, and there had long ceased to be enough magic to hunt at night save for the few nights around the full moon.

She wondered, yet again, how that cursed woman always managed to find her. The South Sea was huge, and the waters near the ice fields were fairly remote. And, yet, every day for the past two weeks, Korra would pick up on the vibrations of the glorified motorboat. She’d have to abandon her hunt for the big game and stick to the depth she was comfortable holding her breath, if necessary.

It was definitely necessary the first day Korra saw the woman, two weeks ago. She’d started letting herself slowly rise out of cautious habit when she felt the ripples of the boat’s engine, when suddenly her body felt heavy and the water burned her nose. She’d quickly held her breath and raced to the surface, breaching within sight of the boat. The human hadn’t seen her (not that _that_ mattered anymore), but the boat had stopped.

Korra treaded water, waiting for something to happen, hoping that the human couldn’t see her head and shoulders bobbing over the waves of the open ocean. Eventually, the device was turned off and the human woman appeared on the deck of the boat. Korra couldn’t see her features, but the mermaid could definitely tell she was female. Seizing the opportunity, she swam in the shallow, taking testing breaths as she maneuvered to the opposite side of the boat before racing off out of the range of that … that … _thing._

She hadn’t felt the human turn it on again since that day, but after that close call she refused to take any chances.

_So you climbed onto the boat instead. That was_ way _safer. Good job, future Chief!_

The mermaid swallowed a groan as she beached herself and scuttled across the sand to the pool where they stored their food. She frowned as she untied the tuna. Sunset was nearly upon them, and the pool was only a third full. They hadn’t managed to fill it in weeks, and this was the warm season. When the ice returned….

Korra cursed as the rope slid against her palm. The wounds on her hands had nearly healed now, but they were still tender. She must have used too much magic trying to break that Two-Legs’ line (what the fuck was it made of?!); she sighed and wound the rope back around her upper arm.

A gentle hand on her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts. Her heart rose and fell in familiar disappointment. Korra looked up to meet eyes that mirrored her own, framed with salt wrinkles in the brown skin at the outer corners. Her chestnut hair was pulled into two loose kite-tails, one hanging over each shoulder. A band of tanned whale hide, dyed a deep blue to match her scales, was wrapped and tied across her chest – the traditional gift of a merman to the mermaid he wishes to be his mate.

“Sorry, Mom,” Korra sighed, nodding her head toward the pool. “That’s all I could catch today.”

“That’s okay, Sweetie,” Senna soothed, pulling her daughter into a hug. “It’s hard for all of us these days.”

“I’m the best hunter in our colony,” Korra pouted. “ _One_ tuna?”

“It’s one tuna more than we had, and we need every fish we can get.”

“I know,” Korra grumbled. She looked over to the cookfire. Several calves were hugging close to their mothers, ribs visible under bronze and copper skins. They were usually still playing at this time, but playing on sand was tiring, and the little ones sat quietly and played with shells or suckled as they waited for dinner. “Stupid humans.”

“Now, Korra,” Senna admonished. “All creatures serve a purpose.”

“Yeah. And theirs is to steal and kill,” Korra huffed, folding her arms under her breasts.

“Korra,” Senna sighed. She shook her head and frowned, then raised an eyebrow as she noticed that the line that usually crossed Korra’s chest – and the spear it secured – were missing. “Where is your spear?”

Korra’s blue eyes flew wide open. “Uhhh….”

“Korra.”

Both Senna and Korra turned their heads toward the deep baritone voice. A very muscular, broad-shouldered merman pulled himself onto the beach to join them. An intricate tattoo rippled over his upper arm, and a trident was strapped to his back. His long, black hair was held out of his face in a half kite-tail. A conch and other tools hung from his belt. Behind him, a group of merfolk guided a dead, young whale to another nearby stretch of beach, where the animal would be stripped for its meat, fat, and bone.

Korra whistled in approval, waving back as some of the merfolk waved at her. “Wow, Dad,” Korra greeted. “Where’d you get a whale?”

“Tonraq,” Senna greeted at the same time, stretching up to meet the merman with a chaste kiss on the lips.

“We didn’t kill it,” Tonraq frowned. “But we are grateful for what the spirits have provided.”

“What happened to it?” Korra asked.

Tonraq shook his head. “We smelled merblood in the water,” Tonraq changed the subject. “Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, Dad. That was me,” Korra sighed. “I’m good. Just a little line burn.”

Tonraq raised an eyebrow, appraising his daughter. “Where’s your spear?”

“Um, somewhere in the South Sea?” Korra shrugged, rubbing the back of her neck.

Korra’s parents exchanged a glance. The entire colony knew how much Korra treasured that spear. They both turned to face their daughter, concerned expressions on their faces.

Korra sighed in defeat. “I lost it when the tip ripped out. The line cut my hands.” Korra held up her palms to show them, the angry red lines had ceased healing as she was out of the water.

“That line was tiger shark gut,” Tonraq said. “You spent weeks curing and braiding it.”

“And your shaft was nalrus whale tusk,” Senna added.

“I know,” Korra huffed. “When it ripped out I got disoriented. It was either the fish or my spear.”

Tonraq frowned. Korra met his storm blue eyes, trying to keep her expression respectful despite her rising anger. Contact with humans was strictly forbidden. If their prey was lost to a human they were under orders to let it go. Throwing herself on a boat in full view of a human? Even as the Chief’s daughter she would be severely punished.

_But our people are hungry_ , Korra thought. She blinked and swallowed, rolling her shoulders back in defiance.

Tonraq sighed and placed a large, gentle hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “I know you’re worried and frustrated. We all are,” he said quietly. “But sacrificing your spear for one tuna was not a wise decision. You might have caught two bigger fish tomorrow. Instead, we will be short one hunter until you make another spear to replace it. You need to learn to control your emotions.”

Korra’s shoulders immediately drooped. She’d been so angry at the human that she hadn’t thought about tomorrow’s hunt. “I’m sorry, Dad. I swam _all day_ and I….” She balled her raw fists, willing the tears back into her eyes. “If it wasn’t for those fucking _Two-Legs_ -”

“ _Korra_!” Senna scolded.

The young mermaid bit her bottom lip and stared at the sand. Her parents were always preaching balance and respect for all creatures, but the humans clearly didn’t care about balance or respect – even for each other. Their library was full of human books with tales of greed and lust driving humans to malice and murder. Humans were the source of everything bad that’s ever happened to her and their people.

A sigh caused Korra to look up. Her father had a familiar guarded expression on his face as he held her gaze. Suddenly, Korra wasn’t hungry anymore.

She shrugged off her father’s hand. “Can I go now?”

“But, you haven’t eaten.” Senna remarked.

“I’m not hungry,” Korra quipped. The harshness of her tone surprised herself. She cleared her throat. “I just… can I?”

A pained expression was exchanged between her parents before Tonraq nodded.

As quickly as she could, Korra pulled herself down the beach and dove into the water before the hot tears could fall from her eyes. She swam hard along the bottom of the reef until she reached an opening barely wide enough for her to swim through. She continued until she met a cliff wall, then she headed for the surface. She breached and stroked out with her arms for the mouth of a cave, her lungs and tail burning.

The cave had been formed by the tides. At high tide the water filled most of the cave, save for a shelf of volcanic black sand just in arm’s reach at low tide, but still dry when the tide came in, inches below the lip. Fortunately for the exhausted mermaid, the tide was in, and she eased her aching body onto the shelf.

She was so tired. Tired of humans; tired of worrying; tired of bottling up her emotions; tired of everyone’s pity. She wanted to be a good chief, to help her people, but she couldn’t control her temper. She kept making rash, impulsive decisions fueled by her bitter rage, and she was constantly using profanity. Most of the mothers wouldn’t let her watch the calves anymore. Kya wouldn’t let her near the library after she’d ripped apart that book. Hunting was the only good thing she’d still been able to contribute, and without a spear she’d lost that, too.

_And now a human knows you exist. In your hunting range. Near the Oasis._

Korra groaned and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. That human woman had probably headed straight to Port Arakaa and told everyone with ears that she’d seen a mermaid. There would be hundreds of boats trawling the waters soon, searching for one of them to capture and “study”, fanatics with underwater cameras trying to prove their existence.

She considered going back and telling her father the entire truth. He’d be furious; they’d lose hunting range they desperately needed; more merfolk might die.

Korra opened her palms. She stared at the red welts. It would take at least a week to replace her spear. She could knot seaweed together for the line, but the big fish they needed would easily snap it. She thought about the hungry calves, their tiny ribs etched in relief.

_We won’t survive the winter. Not like this._

Korra made her decision.

Along the wall was a niche, carved out by hand, with a few items displayed out of reach of the tide even during the worst storms. Using the familiar hand holds in the wall, Korra lifted herself to it, tired arms straining with the effort. She reached up and grasped a small figure, gently placing it under her chin as she lowered herself back down to the sandy shelf. She retreated further into the dark, curling her tail as she lay on her side.

She fingered the small doll, lovingly carved out of walrus turtle tusk. It was a mermaid, with shark squid ink dyed black hair and malachite eyes and a scored tailfin painted with mother of pearl. She stared at it in the waning light of day, tears slowly tracking down her cheeks.

“I wish you were here, Yuri,” she whispered. “I miss you.”

Korra buried her face in her arms and wept.


	3. Local Color

By the time Asami Sato made it to Port Arakaa, she’d decided two things.

One, mermaids were real. Like, really – _really_ – real.

Two, there was no way in Raava’s name she’d _ever_ admit that to _anyone._

Her father was in a mental institution right now. Years of sleep deprivation, stress, grief and self-medicated depression had driven him to paranoia. The man had begun stockpiling nuclear and chemical weapons to “battle the alien invasion”, absolutely convinced he was the only one who could save the world.

The United Forces Intelligence Department had arrested him on suspicion of masterminding a massive terrorist plot. A few hours into the interrogation and it was clear to them that Hiroshi Sato was not a terrorist, but a brilliant – and extremely dangerous – lunatic.

She still shuddered to think what would’ve happened if any of those weapons had leaked or detonated. And _under_ the Sato Estate! Fortunately, even in his madness, Hiroshi Sato was still a genius and still completely devoted to keeping his daughter and only child safe from harm. The United Forces and the Fire Nation were so impressed with the design of the illegal facility that Asami – as the new CEO – was offered contracts to retrofit and build new storage facilities for their weapons stockpiles. They had to – the designs were all under Future Industries’s patents, filed in every nation on the planet.

Three years had passed and Asami had finally found some time to relax. She had no intention of working herself into lunacy or heart disease, and she wanted to enjoy her vacations while she was still young. Asami knew herself well enough to know that lying on the beach at an Ember Island resort fending off potential suitors was _not_ an ideal vacation for her. She wanted adventure, solitude, disconnection. No walls, no phones, no e-mail, no work, no one to answer to or be responsible for other than herself.

She’d considered a few places before she read a vicious review about Port Arakaa written by none other than Iknik Blackstone Varrick – the manic millionaire who had sold her father those black-market weapons and had still managed to weasel his way out of jail time with a plea bargain. He hated Port Arakaa, and Asami hated him; so, naturally, Asami bought a small yacht through an agent in Harbor City, flew to the Southern Water Tribe capital, and piloted her new purchase along the coast to Port Arakaa herself.

Port Arakaa was a sleepy little fishing town with one inn, weak radio frequencies, and no internet. It was the last port before “the jaws” – the most dangerous waters on the planet, where the ice never melted even in summer. When she needed solitude, she’d head out to sea. When she needed to hear another human voice, she’d pull into port and head to the inn, maybe even stay the night if the weather got bad or she had too many shots of artic berry gin.

Most of the time it was just her on the “Yasuko”, anchored at some random point, fishing for her meals in the open sea, reading books or idly tinkering with the odd project or two that had stumped her back in Republic City. Back home, they’d sat on her bookshelves and workbench and mocked her. On her boat, they were strapped down and kept her company, like a dog or a cat would for some people. There was no pressure, no deadlines, no fighting exhaustion after an 18-hour day of meetings, paperwork, and high heels. She whiled away the hours until the bell on the line indicated she’d hooked something.

Sometimes she’d bundle up and take a steaming cup of tea out on the deck and just lean against the railing, watching the waves roll past as she breathed in the sharp, fresh air. Sometimes, a flash beneath the surface would catch her eye, and she’d run over to the harpoon cannon, take aim, and fire. Most of the time she missed, but that day she’d gotten lucky. She’d already considered how she was going to cook her catch over the next few days when a mermaid climbed on board and took it.

A very rude, very muscular, very beautiful mermaid.

“Their waters indeed,” Asami scoffed to herself as she pulled into a free berth as the last rays of sun hovered above the horizon. “And as if she couldn’t get another fish. She _lives_ in the ocean for spirits’ sake.”

The only reason she was certain of her sanity was the mess her uninvited guest had left. She’d cleaned up the deck, scrubbed and mopped up all that odd blue-green goo. Though she wore latex gloves, when she’d taken a rag to clean the railing, some of the goo had touched the skin of her exposed wrist, burning on contact. She’d cursed and quickly washed it off, being extra careful not to let the caustic substance touch her skin again.

She’d examined the deck, railing and her dirty clothes (Of course she’d stained her favorite parka and gloves.). Fortunately, it didn’t look like the goo had eaten through the water-resistant fabric or the weather-proofed surfaces of the boat. She’d showered, washed and dried her hair, and bundled up in her spare parka and mitten-gloves. She wondered if anyone at the inn knew where she could get her favorites cleaned.

Asami anchored and tied up her boat, locked it up, and headed up the dock to the mainland. She had an open account at the inn, and she headed toward its warm lights, easily visible even on foggy nights. Asami smiled and nodded at a few familiar faces she’d met in the past two weeks. She was halfway through her scheduled vacation, and she still enjoyed the solitude more than she hated the biting cold. She couldn’t imagine how the locals managed to survive the winter storms.

_How do mermaids survive in this region_? Asami wondered. _She was practically naked. No, she_ was _naked. That shell-belt left_ nothing _to the imagination._

She paused on the empty sidewalk and took a few deep breaths, cooling her warm cheeks as she stood before the solid door to the Stone Hearth Inn. _Stop being a perv, Sato._

Putting on her best polite-fake smile, she pulled open the door, taking in the now familiar warmth of jovial conversation, steaming bowls of seaweed noodles, and the best hot chocolate she’d ever tasted in her life.

“Asami!”

The CEO looked over at the bar, where a stocky young man with grass green eyes and a child-like grin waved wildly at her from behind the counter. “Hi, Bolin!”

“Didn’t catch anything, huh?” He grinned as she shook her head ruefully. “That’s okay! That just means you get another helping of Mako’s famous spicy squid dumplings and my hot chocolate!”

“That sounds delicious, thank you,” Asami giggled as she took her usual seat at the end of the bar. She surveyed the dining room, noticing a lot of faces she usually saw at the docks. “A lot of people here tonight.”

“Yeah,” Bolin sighed as he finished pouring a mug of ale for a previous customer. “Global’s been overfishing again. We reported them, but the damage was done. By the time the United Forces showed up they were long gone.”

“What about the villagers?”

Bolin shrugged. “The military will give them some assistance, but without fish….” He trailed off with a sigh before a patron called him away.

Asami chewed her bottom lip as she mulled over the situation. She knew Varrick was the head of Global and she knew how he operated. He was a native Southerner, but when it came to money the only person he cared about was himself. He brokered black-market transactions of nuclear weapons to the highest bidder – what did the environment and sustainable fishing mean to him?

She thought of how easily the mermaid had lifted that giant tuna onto her back. Asami was sure the creature was accustomed to catching fish much bigger than that. She was also sure that the mermaid would’ve avoided all “two-legs” if she could.

_She’s desperate_ , Asami realized, a pang of guilt stabbing her in the gut.

“Yuan for your thoughts.”

Asami looked up and smiled as a pair of pale hands placed a steaming tray of noodles and dumplings in front of her. “Thanks, Mako. This smells wonderful.”

Mako shrugged, his sharp features pulled into a wry smile, amber eyes reflecting the indoor light. “It’s just what I remember Mom cooking for us when we were little. No big.”

“You’re too modest,” Asami said, biting into a squid dumpling. She hummed in satisfaction as the spices and warm filling eased the chill that had settled in her shoulders.

“Thanks.” Mako’s smile softened. He stepped aside as Bolin joined them with a tankard of hot chocolate. “So, what’s got you so down?”

Asami nodded toward the half-full dining room as she sipped her hot chocolate, humming again. “Bolin told me about Varrick and the overfishing.”

“You ever met that jerk?” Mako scowled, folding his arms across his chest. Asami nodded her head. “He stayed here for two days, complained about everything, then handed _us_ a _bill_ for his ‘consulting services’.”

Asami choked as she slurped a seaweed noodle. “He what? Surely you didn’t pay it?”

“Of course not,” Mako scoffed.

“Yeah,” Bolin grinned, flexing his biceps. “We convinced him he couldn’t afford the exchange rate.”

Asami laughed more at his wiggling eyebrows than the awful joke. “I’m sure half the village was threatening to throw him into the South Sea by the time he left.”

“Pretty much,” Mako shrugged. “I remember Zolt complaining about him back in Republic City. I always thought he was exaggerating.”

“Varrick is the definition of exaggeration,” Asami scoffed. “And exasperation.”

“Cool mustache, though,” Bolin said.

Asami and Mako both glared at the green-eyed man.

“What? I’ve always wanted to grow a mustache, but it always comes in funny.”

The three of them laughed and chatted, Bolin and Mako occasionally leaving the conversation to help other customers. Asami leaned against the counter, arms folded, letting her food settle as she enjoyed the brothers’ company, temporarily distracted from her mythological meeting.

Mako and Bolin were originally from Republic City, but they’d joined the Triple Threat Triad as orphans and couldn’t find a way out of the gang without leaving the United Republic. So, Bolin had closed his eyes and randomly pointed to a spot on the map, and they left.

The previous owner of the inn, Kuruk, gave them jobs and lodging, taught them everything he knew. He was ready to retire, but had lived long enough to bury his wife and all three of his children. His grandchildren had moved to Harbor City and weren't interested in keeping the family business. Mako and Bolin decided they’d found their new home. They gave him their entire life savings two years ago. Kuruk lived in a modest cabin further inland, and walked to the inn every day to sit by the fire, gossip, and play pai sho. Everyone was happy; so far so good.

A tingling on her wrist drew Asami’s attention to her sleeve. She was reminded of her stained parka and gloves back on her ship. “Say, Mako? Do you guys have a laundry service?”

“Yep,” Mako smirked. “Me, myself and I.”

“Seriously? You cook _and_ clean?”

“When you’re an orphan and Bolin is your little brother? You have to.”

“Hey! I’m right here,” Bolin pouted.

Asami giggled. “Well, my gloves and parka had an unfortunate run in. I’m not even sure _what’s_ on them.” Asami wrinkled her nose.

“I can get out _anything_ ,” Mako smirked, crossing his arms.

Bolin clapped Mako’s shoulder. “And he means _anything_! Blood, grease, makeup, you name it.”

“Greenish-blue skin-burning goop?”

Mako groaned as Bolin squealed. “For the last time, Bo. Mermaids are _not_ real!”

“Come on, Mako! Have a little faith!”

“Um, what?” Asami queried, her heart beating faster.

“The villagers call that stuff mermaid’s blood,” Mako explained. “It’s actually dead horseshoe crab. Fishermen run into it every few years or so. _Bolin_ took the term _literally_.”

“They call it _mermaid’s blood_ ,” Bolin retorted. “Why would they call it that if there weren’t any _mermaids_?”

“I think Asami would’ve noticed if a mermaid bled all over her parka,” Mako huffed.

As the brothers continued to argue, Asami thought about the mermaid. _Of course! The color, the copper scent. Hemocyanin, like horseshoe crabs. That’s how she breathes on land_ and _underwater! She was bleeding!_

_She was bleeding…._

“Asami?”

“Hm?” Asami replied. “Sorry, I zoned out.”

“I don’t blame you.” Mako rolled his eyes. “You staying the night? It’s about time to lock up.”

Asami looked around the room. There were only a few people left, mostly huddled around the great stone hearth of the inn’s name, soaking up some extra warmth before heading to bed. Even Kuruk had slipped out and headed home at some point.

She shook her head. “I’d better head back. I’ll just use the restroom before I go?”

“Of course,” Bolin smiled.

Asami quickly crossed to the facility and locked the door behind her. She relieved herself, washed her hands, and checked herself in the mirror. She frowned at the now constant tingle on her wrist. She resisted scratching it, but she could clearly see where the blood had burned her skin. She didn’t remember reading anything about horseshoe crab blood burning skin, but she knew there were microorganisms in its blood. She wondered if she should go see a doctor. She wondered if there _was_ a doctor in this tiny village.

“Stop being paranoid, Sato,” she chastised herself. She gave her reflection another once over, giving her sleeves an extra tug before exiting the one-stall bathroom. She waved at the brothers as she made a beeline for the door.

“’Night, Asami!” Bolin called.

“’Night, Bo! ‘Night, Mako!”

“Bring that parka first thing in the morning,” Mako called. “It takes forever to dry!”

“I will!” Asami waved toward the few patrons who wished her goodnight and pushed the door into the night. The three-quarter moon hung low in the sky, and Asami shoved her hands deep into her pockets as she headed back to her boat.

The itching of her wrist increased as she walked under the moonlight. She was cold, but she opted not to pull up her hood, wanting to hear the wind as it whispered across the water. She filled her lungs with icy arctic air and exhaled a long sigh. She looked up at the stars as she walked.

The stars in the sky above Port Arakaa were _real_ stars, not satellites or cell phone towers or airplanes. And there were so many! They dusted the sky, winking and shifting as the planet turned. She was beginning to recognize a few of the constellations from the astronomy book she’d brought with her on the trip – the dancing otter penguin; the sailboat; the mermaid’s tail.

Sighing, Asami let her mind wander freely over the day’s events. She’d met a mermaid; an actual, real, live mermaid. Until today was she was absolutely certain mermaids did not exist. Now she had hundreds – thousands – of questions. She wondered how much of the legends were true, and if the mermaids were suffering from the overfishing. With all that muscle, the blue-eyed mermaid didn’t seem to be missing any meals.

She didn’t know how mermaids caught fish, but she doubted it was barehanded. And the way the mermaid had cut out that dart clearly indicated she was very familiar with harpoons. Asami remembered seeing a rip in the flesh on the other side of the fish.

_She must have cut herself when her dart ripped out_ , Asami thought. _What happens if a mermaid loses too much blood? Have other people in the village seen mermaids? They must have at some point in their history. And why does it_ burn _!_

She rubbed her wrist against the lining of the pocket of her parka. The itching had progressed to burning, and she decided to put some of her trusty cure-all ointment on it before she went to bed. She bought it from the Air Nomads on Air Temple Island; she had no idea what was in it, and they refused to tell, but it worked.

Her pale, Fire Nation heritage arms should be covered in scars from all the times she’d cut or burned herself working on engines. She only had one or two translucent marks, invisible unless you were looking for them. Thanks to the miracle ointment she could still wear sleeveless gowns to the various galas she had to attend to represent Future Industries.

The sound beneath her boots changed from thud to clunk as she reached the docks. She followed the path to her berth, observing the boats gently rocking on the black waves. She reached her yacht, climbed the metal ladder to board, and unlocked the cabin door. She closed the door behind her and hesitated.

She immediately regretted that hesitation when she found her arms pinned to her sides and something sharp pressed against the skin of her neck.

“We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate the kudos and comments. I fully admit that I am riding this horse bareback out of a burning barn. I prefer to write free-form; I get bored with outlines.
> 
> See you next Saturday!


	4. Fear

_The moon was full and Korra felt_ alive.

_She zipped through the water, heart pounding, tail flashing, skin glowing as she raced under the moonlight. She grinned as Yuri laughed just ahead of her._

_They weren’t supposed to swim in the open sea at night, especially not this far from the colony. But, it was the full moon – the one night each month their connection to the magic was as strong as midday. The pair of young mermaids were free to go where and do what they pleased. They were still in their waters, but just barely. Korra had drawn the line at leaving their boundaries, but she had caved – as usual – to everything else Yuri asked of her._

_So, they were racing through the South Sea, the silver light so bright it lit the sea like daylight. It wasn’t a race-race; if so, Yuri would win it. Korra was a strong swimmer; but Yuri was built for the water. Everything about her was long, lean, streamlined. Her long, straight hair; her slim face; her toned arms and thin fingers; her tapered tail dressed in scales of opal._

_Beautiful._

_Yuri slowed so Korra could come aside her. She laughed, dark green eyes twinkling with mischief. Korra’s heart skipped a beat. Yuri sped up again, trailing a finger up Korra’s arm as she passed. The blue-scaled mermaid shivered and followed._

_They headed up, closer to the moon, skimming the surface of the water as they danced between the waves. Yuri began leaping clear, body bowing, barely slowing as she jumped and dove. Korra grinned. She may not be as fast as the iridescent mermaid, but she was definitely more powerful._

_With a hard flap Korra leapt into the air, whooping as her flukes cleared the water by a couple of feet before she extended her arms and dove back into the cold water. The pair continued, Yuri slightly ahead, Korra jumping higher, their breathy laughter lost in the waves._

_A horn sounded in the distance, deep and long. Korra dove into the water and slowed. She resurfaced, head and shoulders above the water, trying to locate the vessel. She finally spotted it; a large ship to the north. She relaxed as a pair of long, cuttlefish arms draped across her bronze shoulders from behind, their scales brushing._

_“I don’t think they saw us,” Korra said. “But we better stay below, just in case.”_

_“Mmm,” Yuri hummed into her neck. She nipped Korra’s earlobe and then dropped into the water. Before Korra could take a breath, strong hands yanked hard on her flukes and she yelped as she was pulled under the water._

_Korra looked down to meet malachite eyes under inky eyebrows, Yuri’s full lips pulled into a smirk. She let go of Korra’s tail and allowed the current to pull her toward the ship._

_“Yu-ri,” Korra warned._

_“Kor-ra,” she replied, rolling her eyes._

_“Yuri, come on,” Korra pleaded. “My dad flipped the last time.”_

_“And the time before that. And the time before that.”_

_“Yuu-rii. I’m serious.”_

_Yuri sighed and swam back toward the younger mermaid. “You’re such a scaredy squid.”_

_“Am not,” Korra pouted._

_Yuri giggled, swimming a lazy circle and tracing a line around Korra’s torso with a slender finger. Korra bit her bottom lip as Yuri faced her and leaned in, pert light breasts pressed against her own full dark ones. She closed her eyes and felt the heat of Yuri’s lips._

_“Prove it.” Yuri pushed off of Korra and streaked toward the ship, laughing as she swam._

_Korra rolled her eyes and took off after her. This was their relationship for as long as she had memory, Yuri teasing and Korra giving chase. Even as calves Yuri would tease her, swimming just out of reach during games of tag. Korra never stopped trying to catch up, even though she was three years younger. Now 19, Korra knew the blissful pleasure Yuri’s teasing could lead to, and she whipped her tail faster in pursuit of her lover._

_Yuri threw back a glance over her shoulder, green eyes sparkling. They were close to the ship now, so close Korra could feel the hum of the ship’s engines in her bones. Just as they could clearly make out the bolts in the ship’s dark grey keel, Yuri laughed and angled up, disappearing above the waves._

_Korra followed, leaping in the air next to the ship. Up close she could tell it was a research ship, huge, but harmless. It lacked the rank scent of rotten fish that clung to the commercial trawlers with their fish-stealing nets. She saw an unfamiliar marking on the hull, like a rising sun. She heard nothing from above them; hopefully, the humans were asleep._

_Grinning, she caught up with Yuri and reached out. Their fingers grazed each others’, both laughing with joy and freedom and youth and love. Korra felt the moonlight fill her and she powered through the water into the air._

_Halfway through the jump, she felt … odd. Like she was slightly heavier. When she dove back into the sea, the salt water rushed into her nose and mouth, burning her throat and chest. She instinctively rushed back to the surface in a panic, coughing violently as she struggled to keep herself above the waves. Eyes wide, she looked to the older mermaid for guidance, but Yuri wasn’t there._

_“Yuri,” Korra choked out, coughing up more salt water. “Yuri!?”_

_Korra ducked back under the water to search, and immediately clamored back to the surface in another coughing fit, unable to breathe under the water._

_Terror. Panic. Korra spluttered as waves hit her in the face, the heaviness threatening to pull her underwater if she stopped moving her tail and arms. She screamed for her lover, strained her ears to hear Yuri’s voice above the waves as the force of the boat cutting through the water pushed her away from the hull._

_She began to feel lighter as the distance between her and the boat increased; her lungs no longer burned as badly, the moonlight felt warmer. Korra was torn; she didn’t want to leave the area, but she couldn’t stay close to that ship. She said a quick prayer to Raava and began to backstroke away from the boat, still scanning the surface of the water for Yuri._

_As if a fishing line snapped, the burning in Korra’s chest and throat abruptly stopped. She immediately ducked underwater, relieved to discover she could breathe again._

_“Yuri! Yuri!!” Korra yelled, projecting her voice through the water. She spun in a full circle, searching the moonlit sea for her lover. “Yuri!!!”_

_She began to follow the boat, fear of losing Yuri greater than the fear of … drowning? She kept a safe distance, breaching the surface and dropping below as she called out the green-eyed mermaid’s name. Korra breached again, still maintaining her distance. She had been starboard of the vessel; now, she was slightly port and astern, and what she saw made her copper blood run cold._

_Floating in the water, face down, was a limp figure with black hair and scales that shimmered iridescent in the moonlight._

_“Yuri!!!” Korra raced to her lover. She lifted Yuri’s face out of the water and choked on a sob. Yuri’s green eyes were open, fixed, unseeing. The bright white of her sclera were shot through with blue veins. Around her neck, blue blood seeped from a thin cut. Korra placed her ear against her pale chest, begging Raava to let her hear something,_ anything _._

_Nothing. No heartbeat. No breath._

_“No,” Korra whispered, gently cradling the still form in her arms. She tucked a lock of hair behind a pale ear, tenderly grasped a limp bloody hand in hers, interlocking their fingers. “No. Please, Yuri. Please.” She kissed the wet forehead, eyes darting across the empty face that moments ago had just looked at her with such joy and love and_ life _. “Please?”_

_Those teasing malachite eyes remained fixed upon nothing. And Korra’s broken heart gave chase as she keened her sorrow to the spirits in the night sky._

***

Korra opened her eyes, expecting the blurred vision and the dull headache. She could tell by the light on the cave walls and the sound of the water lapping at the stone that she’d only been asleep for an hour or so. She hadn’t had a good night’s rest since that human woman showed up. She shuddered at the memory of that heavy sensation, as if her veins were slowly filling with sand.

The miniature of her deceased lover slowly came into focus, cradled loosely in the hand of the arm upon which she’d slept. The nacreous tail and dark green eyes dimly reflected the moonlight that managed to spill into the cave.

The blue-eyed mermaid frowned. She couldn’t help but notice the similarities between Yuri and the human; black hair, pales skin, slender frame, green eyes (though a different shade). A small part of her – a miniscule, deeply buried part – could even admit that the human woman was attractive (for a human. In a laughable number of layers for summer). It was confusing, that part. It felt like a betrayal and, at the same time, a lightness.

Korra sighed. Her body ached from the rigors of the day and from sleeping curled up on the hard rock. _I’ll have to sleep in the kelp tonight,_ she thought as she sat up.

Korra froze. In front of her, instead of her beautiful blue tail, was a pair of muscular brown legs.

“ _AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!_ ”

Korra scuttled back against the cave wall, horrified to see the legs ( _LEGS!!_ ) scuttled back with her. She screamed again. And again. And again.

Hoarse, and panting, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the cave wall. _It’s a nightmare. Just another nightmare. I just have to open my eyes and wake up. On three, Korra! One. Two. Three!_

Korra opened her eyes. And screamed.

She screwed her eyes shut, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. _Not real! Not real! Need to wake up! Pinch myself! That’s it!_

Korra pinched herself. Opened her eyes. And screamed.

“ _Fuck_!! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” Korra’s hands clutched her hair at the roots. She wanted to curl up, but when she tried the legs came closer, so she extended them out as far as she could, even pointing the toes in an effort to distance the foreign limbs from herself.

_What is happening!? Why are there- Why do I- How!? How did this-_

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Korra hissed as a cramp suddenly seized the bottom of one foot, running up the calf before settling into a tendon at the back of the knee. She clutched the knee with one hand and the calf with the other. She focused on her breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

A glint of green light caught her attention. She squinted through her pain at the Yuri miniature, mocking her from where it lay abandoned on the sandy floor.

“You would find this funny,” Korra muttered.

The tale of the mermaid who wanted to be human was Yuri’s favorite story. She must’ve begged Katara and Kya to tell it hundreds of times when they were calves. Korra thought it was a horrible story; she always played the role of the witch when the calves would act out the fairytale (“Being human is stuuupid and you’ll diiiiiie!”). Walking on two legs and exploring the world was Yuri’s fondest dream – and Korra’s worst nightmare.

The cramp began to ease, just a little. Korra gently released the leg, then slowly began to scoot sideways and then backwards, stopping whenever the cramp began to tighten up. Eventually, she felt her hands grasp the edge of the shelf. She slowly turned until the legs dangled over the edge.

The tide had started to go out, and the feet didn’t reach the water in her pain-lessened position. She grit her teeth, grabbed the edge, and stretched toward the healing salt water with a low, growling whimper.

The instant the toes touched the water a cool sensation ran up through the legs, through her spine and over the crown of her head. Korra closed her eyes and moaned in relief. She eased herself as far into the water as her arms would allow, elbows supporting her frame.

“Thank you, Sweet Raava,” Korra sighed and absently flipped her fluke. Her eyes flew open a moment later and she stared at her tailfin (her beautiful tailfin!) through the clear water.

“What. The. Fuck,” she whispered. She lifted her fluke out of the water, examining the notch and tips, wiggling and flexing the highly muscular planes. No cramps, no toes, no skin, no brown. Just blue tailfin.

The confused (and relieved) mermaid slowly raised herself out of the water and back into the cave, watching her tailfin the entire time. The ache of overexertion returned once she was out of the water, but her tailfin remained a tailfin. She looked over at the Yuri carving.

“Right,” Korra said quietly. “That was …. I don’t know what that was.”

Korra frowned, her eyebrows drawn in thought. She hadn’t felt anything. Granted, she was asleep when the leg-thing happened, but when her tailfin came back she hadn’t felt anything except relief from that muscle cramp.

_How did I_ not _feel that? How did that happen in the first … place…._

The blue-eyed mermaid narrowed her eyes. _That human!_ She _did this! With that drowning machine!_ It made sense to Korra. If humans couldn’t breathe underwater, and those machines kept merfolk from breathing underwater, then those machines could be disrupting the magic and making them _human._ Korra shuddered at the thought.

Korra and several of the younger merfolk wanted to steal one of those machines, bring it back to the colony so that they could study it, figure out how it worked and if they could sabotage it. Her father and the council of elders always voted them down, stating that it was too dangerous. Yuri had been the first of their colony to die, but over the years the strange devices had taken healthy mermaids and mermen from each clan.

_If Yuri was alive she wouldn’t have asked. She would’ve just showed up with one._

Korra looked over at the green-eyed carving. She frowned as another pair of lighter green eyes flashed before her. She grabbed the carving, tucked it under her chin, and climbed the wall to put it back in its niche. She hurried back down and quickly crossed the floor to dive headfirst into the moonlit water.

She was spearless; she was exhausted; she was hungry; and she was swimming away from the Source without the energy from the sun to support her. And she was swimming toward a human port to steal a human device that could kill her and probably (temporarily) gave her legs.

She thought of Yuri’s laugh. Korra clenched her fists and flicked her tail toward the reef’s exit.

***

The journey to Port Arakaa was less than an hour on a good sunny day. The three-quarter moon didn’t reflect the sun’s rays as far into the depths, so Korra conserved energy and allowed the currents to carry her instead of using them to boost her speed through the water. She could feel them clearly, but they weren’t as sharp to her in her depleted state. It occurred to her that the legs thing had bled some of her energy, too.

An hour or so after she’d left home, she found the familiar, new, clean bottom of the human woman’s yacht. All of the other boats had scars and arctic barnacles growing on their hulls. She swam as close to the surface as she could and still cover her entire head, in the shadows so that no one could see her through the low, rippling waves.

She placed an ear on the hull and listened. There were no sounds on the boat save for the generator. She imagined it must power one of those refrigerators she’d read about in the library (before Kya banished her).

Convinced no one (at least no one awake) was on the boat, Korra decided to take advantage of the opportunity. She eased her eyes and ears out of the water, slowly turning in a full circle, listening for sounds of human life. The entire port was quiet, with only a few generators humming here and there. She couldn’t even hear any music or singing.

_They must all be at that inn,_ Korra thought. She began to climb up the side of the boat in the shadow, using the rub rails. Her hand touched something sticky and she glanced at it. It glowed blue and iridescent in the moonlight.

_Fuck me._ She looked up and over. Sure enough, there were several other patches of glowing blue where her bloodied hands had climbed up the side of the boat earlier that day. _Thank Raava the hull is grey._

She tried to wipe the blood off the hull, but she only succeeded in smearing it. She needed kelp and water (and time), and right now she only had one of those. Sighing in resigned frustration, she climbed the rest of the way and quickly swung over the lifeline to ease herself onto the deck without a sound, arms straining with the effort.

Korra paused and listened. Hearing nothing, she kept to the shadow of the solid deck wall and made her way to the cabin door. She untied two bones from her belt and deftly manipulated the lock of the door until she felt the tumblers “click” into place (a skill Yuri had taught her). She turned the handle triumphantly and slid quietly into the cabin, closing and locking the door behind her and retying her lock picks in their place.

The cabin was larger than Korra expected. There was a set of bookshelves with a sliding door in one wall, and a workbench of some kind on the opposite wall. In front of the bookshelves was a leather couch, mounted to the deck. In front of the workbench was a chair mounted into a groove in the deck. Korra guessed it could be moved along the groove and locked into place. Directly in front of her was the cockpit, the sliding door open. A staircase was situated in the corner near the workbench, leading below deck to what Korra assumed was the galley, head and quarters.

Several machines were strapped onto the surface of the workbench. Korra cautiously approached the mounted chair, pulling herself into it so she could get a better look at each one. She carefully placed a hand on each one, trying to feel for the disturbance that was so sickeningly familiar to her now.

Nothing. She closed her eyes and centered herself, reaching out with her chi to find the disrupting device. She felt … something, but she couldn’t quite make out what it was. She opened her eyes, looked down, and immediately grabbed the arms of the chair, biting her bottom lip to stop herself from screaming.

Her tailfin had disappeared again, replaced with that pair of muscular brown legs.

Korra closed her eyes and refocused on her breathing, ordering her thoughts. She’d felt it that time, but she wasn’t sure if she’d felt the _change_ or the _device._ She didn’t have that heavy feeling this time, though she was tired. She’d need more than a one-hour nap after a crying session after this.

A sound outside caught Korra’s attention. She listened with apprehension, suddenly aware she was out of time to search for answers. She looked down at the brown thighs in the chair underneath her, and a sudden rush of anger filled her. She needed answers, and she needed them _now_.

Without thinking, Korra stood up and walked over to the cabin door, pulling her shell knife off her belt as she took her position behind the door. As soon as the human woman closed the door behind her, Korra swiftly pinned the taller woman’s arms to her sides and placed the dull edge of the blade against the pale, slender neck.

“We need to talk,” Korra growled.


	5. Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a native Houstonian. You might have heard about Hurricane Harvey.
> 
> My family and friends are healthy and safe. Some took on water, but everyone is okay. I live in a different city in Texas now, so I’ve been blessed to help support my hometown and its people.
> 
> I’m exhausted, but I am also very, very grateful. It could’ve been so much worse.

Asami instantly recognized the voice behind her ear. It was raspier than it was earlier, but still rich and melodic – and accusing. The blue-scaled creature seemed only too intent on putting as much distance between them as possible that afternoon. She wondered what motivated this sudden – violent – reappearance.

She also wondered why the mermaid was suddenly so tall. Earlier, the top of her high ponytail might’ve reached Asami’s elbow. Now, Asami could feel warm breath against the back of her neck as the tip of a sharp object pressed against the front of her neck.

The Republic City native had practiced being held at knife point more times than she could remember (her instructors were thorough. Slightly sadistic, but thorough). Asami was confident she could escape (although, the mermaid’s arms were _quite_ strong), but she was curious. And that curiosity beat out her annoyance and inclination for self-preservation.

“Okay,” Asami replied, voice calm and even. “Talk.”

“You have something I need. A machine that disrupts chi.” The mermaid’s voice was low and shaky, emotional. “Where is it?”

The engineer was flummoxed. “A machine that does _what_?”

“It disrupts chi, energy, magic,” the mermaid repeated, clearly annoyed. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Asami said. Chi? _Magic_? She’d only just discovered mermaids were real and now she was being accused – by said mermaid – of having machines that manipulated magic.

“I _know_ you have it,” the mermaid seethed, squeezing Asami a little tighter. As she did, Asami couldn’t help but feel those full breasts press into her back through her parka.

“I don’t have any ‘chi-disrupting’ or ‘magic’ machines,” Asami huffed.

“Liar!” the mermaid hissed in her ear.

Asami frowned. “I’ve never even _heard_ of such a machine. What makes you think I have one in my possession?”

“I _know_ you have it and I _know_ it’s on this boat right now.” The mermaid’s breath blew across her neck in rapid puffs. “Where. Is. It.”

Asami opened her mouth to repeat her answer just as the mermaid’s grip slackened with a shudder. She stumbled as she was suddenly shoved forward, catching herself on the leather couch. She spun around to face the mermaid – only, there was no mermaid. The three ponytails and arresting sapphire eyes were just as she recalled, but everything below the waist had changed. Significantly.

_That explains the height difference._

The mermaid – woman? – former mermaid? – was standing on a pair of _well_ -defined legs. They were sprinter’s or hurdler’s legs, with thick thighs and tight calves and deep indentions between each muscle group. They were surprisingly proportionate, as if she’d been born with them instead of the jeweled blue-scaled tail she’d startled Asami with that afternoon.

And at the apex of those newfound legs was a crown of soft-looking dark curls.

Asami snapped her eyes up to meet the former mermaid’s blazing blues. She was grateful for the dim moonlight filtering into the cabin, hoping it hid the flush she felt rushing into her cheeks.

 The two stared at each other, the caramel woman’s face clearly visible in a shaft of moonlight streaming through the high privacy windows of the cabin. The shadows intensified the deep furrows between her eyebrows and snarling curl of her lips over perfect, white teeth. She wavered again, regaining her balance as she clenched her fists. Her blue eyes glistened as tears began to form.

“Why?” she whispered as the tears began to streak down her cheeks. “Why are you here? Why are you _doing_ this?”

Asami took a step forward, reaching out as the mermaid trembled. The mermaid’s eyes narrowed and she took a step back, simultaneously hurling her dagger at the concerned boat owner. The green eyed woman barely flinched as she instinctively blocked the blade, fully prepared to fend off a second attack as the handle harmlessly bounced off of her sleeve.

The mermaid was already moving, and Asami turned in her stance to see her snatch the dagger by its handle as it spun through the air. However, the creature mis-stepped after landing, and when she turned to face Asami she stumbled.

“Look out!” Asami exclaimed.

It was too late. Before the dark-skinned woman could regain her balance she slammed into the corner of the workbench torso first. She collapsed on the deck with a choked cry.

“Shit!” Asami rushed over to the mermaid’s side. “Are you okay?”

A dark arm extended a dagger grasped in a dark hand. “Back off,” the mermaid wheezed.

Asami lifted both hands in surrender, taking a step back. The woman slowly reached up to the table edge she’d just bounced off of and pulled herself to her feet, clutching her side, gasping for air. Asami’s wrist began to burn in throbbing earnest, and a suspicion formed in the back of her mind.

The mermaid teetered on her legs for a moment, then retreated until her back was against the wall. She slowly dropped down to the floor, legs extended in front of her. She leaned her head back onto the wall, her breathing shallow and ragged, her eyes closed.

_That doesn’t sound good._ Asami’s stomach dropped. She took a hesitant step forward. A blue eye cracked open, wary and wounded – and bright, as if the light was shining _from_ the iris instead of on it. The engineer sucked in a breath of shock as the light flickered before a dark eyelid slid closed over it with a groan.

Curiosity and concern overrode caution, drawing the pale woman forward. She kneeled beside her workbench, close enough to touch the injured figure.

 “How can I help?”

“Fuck off,” the former mermaid whispered.

The pale-skinned woman frowned, then stood up. She turned her back on the wounded woman and strode into the cockpit. She pulled the first aid kit out of its secured recess in the wall and walked back into the cabin proper. Glassy blue eyes squinted as Asami flicked on the light switch. She kneeled just in front of tan toes and opened the kit to pull on a pair of gloves. Green eyes met blue.

“I think you might have cracked your rib,” Asami said quietly. “I’m worried it might have punctured your lung. I have some emergency training. I can assess your injury, maybe provide some first aid. If that’s okay?”

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” the dark-skinned woman rasped.

Asami blew a strand of black hair out of her face. “I’m _trying_ to keep you from _suffocating_. Do you really hate me so much you’d rather stop breathing?”

The blue-eyed woman stared back at Asami for a few moments. A fresh wave of pain caused her to close her eyes, and a tear trailed down her caramel cheek.

The burning in Asami’s wrist increased, and that nagging suspicion came to mind. She quickly pulled the first aid kit to the woman’s side. “ _Please_. Let me help.” The pale-skinned woman watched the former mermaid’s face intently, looking for the slightest response. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the brown head nodded ever so slightly.

“This is going to hurt,” she warned, quickly setting to work. She started at the woman’s throat, pressing gently on either side of the trachea. It looked slightly deviated from midline, but she wasn’t certain. She started assessing the rib cage on the side the woman was clutching, beginning at the collarbone. She kept to her outer torso, trying (and failing) to ignore the swell of the woman’s full, heavy breast as she worked around it.

When she reached the spot the former mermaid had been clutching, the creature hissed as she pressed into the spaces between the ribs. Asami bit the inside of her cheek, silently pushing through the blazing agony in her wrist. It felt like a moo-sow brand was being slowly driven through the skin and muscle and tendon and into the bones.

An intense urge to touch the mermaid surged over the pale-skinned woman. She wanted to rip off the gloves and feel the supple skin beneath her fingers. She took a deep breath, the furrow between her brows deepened. She felt a thin sheen of sweat rise with her flush. _What is wrong with me?_

She fought down the urge and continued her assessment. A deep, purple bruise was already forming under the tawny caramel skin, but the ribs seemed sound. Asami looked back up at the woman’s exposed neck, head tilted back against the wall. She cursed mentally; the trachea had definitely shifted.

“Hemothorax,” Asami muttered under her breath. “There’s fluid building up in your chest,” she said louder, directly to the caramel-skinned woman. “I need to lance it, drain the fluid off.”

The former mermaid opened her eyes wide with fear and disbelief. She shook her head and put her free hand on the floor, trying to push herself up.

“Hey, hey!” Asami said softly, grasping her shoulders with lavender gloved hands. “You need to keep still or you’ll make it worse.”

“Water,” the woman gasped, shaking her head again and attempting to push up against Asami.

“Water? What do you-” Asami pressed the woman down as she tried to stand again, the pain in her wrist bringing tears to her eyes. “ _Damnit, sit still!_ ”

The woman narrowed her blue eyes and grabbed Asami’s wrist, right over the burn. The next instant, Asami’s entire body seized in agony.

Her ruby lips parted in a silent scream, her eyes locked on bright confused sapphires, trying to maintain consciousness. Her world narrowed to those two blue orbs as waves of nauseating pain washed over her with brutal intensity. She fought back the haze of darkness at the edges of her vision until all that remained of the blue light was the fading glow burned into her retinas. She imagined she heard her name as she flirted with the edges of oblivion.

Just before she reached her limit, the pain erupted from her thigh like steam out of a teakettle. She inhaled with relief as the intense heat poured out of her. She ignored the logical part of her brain screaming that pain did not erupt or pour out of people’s thighs. She silently thanked Raava for the cooling relief.

The lights in the cabin flickered, dimmed. The generator made a disturbing sound, and the lights were off. The sensation of pain leaving her body through her thigh ceased as well. An odd silence filled the cabin without the quiet background hum of the generator and various equipment at the ready.

“Asami?”

She opened her emerald eyes to meet the sapphires of the mermaid, a dark hand still grasping a pale wrist in the dim moonlight. The mermaid was sitting upright, breathing normally, eyes focused. Her trachea was midline again. _How the flameo…. Wait._ _She knows my name. How does she know my name?_ A word – a name – floated into Asami’s mind.

“Korra?”

The mermaid nodded, frowning. “I think,” she paused, her skin taking on a ghostly color. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Before Asami could grab the barf bag out of the first aid kit, the ashen woman pitched to the side and vomited onto the floor. She dry heaved a few more times, rolled back to rest her head on the wall, and passed out.

The green-eyed woman jumped as the cabin door rattled underneath someone’s fist.

“Miss Sato?!” a voice bellowed through the door. “You okay?!”

Asami glanced over at the unconscious mermaid. She narrowed her eyes and huffed. “Some vacation,” she muttered, standing up. “I’m fine!” she yelled as she approached the cabin door. “Just the generator!”

She opened the door just wide enough for her head to peek out and see one of the older fishermen who lived on his boat. He was friendly, not too nosey, and had complimented her on her knots. The people of the village judged others by their mastery of knots; he’d found her to be a “sensible” woman.

“Sounded like you’d blown up yer boat!” The old fishermen raised an eyebrow at her protruding head. “What’re you doin’ in thur?”

Asami offered a bashful smile. “I’ve been tinkering with a few prototypes. The demand was too much for the generator. It obviously needs some more work before it’s ready for production.”

“Darn tootin’ it does,” the old man gruffed. “I thought you were on vacation?”

“I like tinkering,” Asami shrugged. “It’s relaxing.”

The old man barked a laugh. He reminded Asami of a tiger seal. “Figures you’d find blowin’ yerself up relaxin’.” He shook his head and turned around. “Go to bed, Sato. ‘Fore you give us old folk heart attacks.”

“Will do! Goodnight! Sorry!” She waved at the few people who had crowded on the dock as they’d talked. She knew they’d spend the rest of the night gossiping about that crazy Sato woman. She sighed.

Asami closed and locked the cabin door behind her, making certain that the deadbolt and chain were secured. She walked over to the mermaid slumped next to her workbench. Avoiding the puddle of puke, she pulled the unconscious woman into a fireman’s carry and carefully headed downstairs with her burden to her quarters.

The fire in her wrist was gone. There was a tinge of residual pain, but that seemed to be easing as well. She paused to balance the solid woman on her shoulders while she pressed a button on the wall next to the steps. A bright, bluish white light illuminated the area. Asami sighed in relief. _At least the batteries survived that power drain._

She reached the bottom of the stairs and pressed another battery-operated emergency light. She crossed the galley and slid open the door to her quarters with the toe of her boot. She awkwardly turned sideways and reached for the battery light, blinking against the light as it filled the enclosed space.

She stood at the side of her bed and eased the unconscious woman off of her shoulders. She laid the mermaid on her back before she straightened up and popped her own back. A large, dark bruise was still visible; her breathing was normal, but the brown forehead was furrowed. _She must still be in pain._

Asami went back through the galley, up the stairs, and cautiously crossed the cabin in the dim light to grab the first aid kit. She frowned against the sour smell of stomach acid. Retreating back downstairs, she hurriedly approached the bed.

The mermaid was exactly as she’d left her. Brow furrowed, chest bruised, gorgeous muscular body completely naked save for a belt of shells and knickknacks. Asami paused for a second, sighing. “This is going to be a challenge.”

She pulled out two rolls of thick, beige bandage. Racing motorcycles and cars, the raven-haired woman had suffered her share of chest injuries. She sat next to the woman and carefully lifted her torso until the ponytailed head lolled onto Asami’s shoulder. Working blind, she wrapped the bandage as tightly as she could around the woman’s chest, struggling with the dense, dead weight.

When she was done, she laid the woman back on the bed and assessed her work. The bandages were tight, compressing her breasts as well as her rib cage for a hand’s breadth underneath them. The chest still expanded with each inhale without struggle, so Asami was satisfied.

She set the kit on the bedside bureau and crossed over to the built-in wardrobe. She pulled a pair of pajama pants out of the bottom drawer, a cream-colored pair with little red fire ferrets cavorting across the fabric. She managed to wrangle them onto the solid frame of the woman, noting how the cuff extended under the woman’s heel.

After careful examination, she was able to tell where and how the belt was knotted around the defined waist. She took it off, setting it on the bedside bureau in clear sight of the mermaid. Once done, she grabbed one of the five pillows on the bed, folded it in half, and tucked it under the woman’s ribs. She rolled the woman over onto the pillow, applying additional pressure to the wounded side.

As she placed the woman’s arms to keep her rolled on her side, Asami paused. The dark outline of an arrow bracketed by two dots and intersected by a swirling line encircling the dots stood in stark relief to the bronze skin tone. She turned over her own wrist, where an exact duplicate was tattooed where the mermaid’s blood had burned her.

_So many questions…._ Frowning, Asami grabbed one of the blankets off of the foot of the bed and draped it loosely over the sleeping figure from shoulder to foot.

Sighing heavily, Asami trudged upstairs to clean up the mermaid’s puke. As she cleaned, she let her mind wander. She knew the mermaid/woman’s name: Korra. And the woman knew hers. Somehow, they’d absorbed this information when the mermaid grabbed her wrist. She didn’t seem to know anything else about Korra outside of her name. She wondered if the same was true for the mermaid.

She glanced at her wrist. The mermaid was either ill or hurt when she arrived, Asami was sure of it. The burning in her wrist seemed to increase with the extent of the mermaid’s injury. The engineer supposed that the “chi” the mermaid spoke of had turned her wrist into a barometer of Korra’s injury.

Asami frowned. _To her, magic and chi are synonymous with energy._ The engineer couldn’t be certain, but it seemed like the release of pain from her thigh coincided with the failure of the generator. She remembered the incredible desire she’d had to touch Korra. _She’s gorgeous,_ Asami thought, blushing at the thought of her first glimpse of the woman’s legs. _But I was providing first aid. I know it’s been awhile, but that was ridiculous._

_Energy flows along the path of least resistance. Apparently, skin-to-skin contact is the preferred pathway of chi._ Asami certainly felt like she’d been hit by lightning when the mermaid grabbed her wrist. She shuddered to think what would’ve happened if her body hadn’t found a way to release that energy.

Finished cleaning, the tired woman put away the cleaning supplies for a second time that day and  pushed each battery light off as she returned to her quarters. Asami stepped out of her own boots and set them outside of her sliding door in the galley. She used the head, washed up, and slipped out of her parka and outerwear. When she reached into the outer pocket on the leg of her pants to pull out her cell phone, she was shocked to see it was charred along one side. She realized that was the thigh where the pain erupted earlier. The cell phone wouldn’t turn on. She frowned. _I guess it overloaded like the generator._

Asami checked her pockets. They were fine – no charring or discoloration whatsoever. She shrugged and set them aside to wear the next day. She pulled a fresh pair of flannel pajamas and a tank top out of her wardrobe, along with a thick pair of socks. Once dressed, she grabbed another blanket off the bed and a pillow, fully reclined the chair next to the bed, and settled in to sleep.

She had a feeling tomorrow would be a long day.


	6. Inception (Part 1)

_The waves crashed against the shore of black sand. Asami stood there, barefoot, in her favorite lavender nightgown and matching satin robe. She felt the breeze flow through her long hair, whispering over the fabric._

_A soft, gasping sob came from behind her. She turned around to see a young woman sitting at the edge of the water, face buried in her knees, shoulders shaking, brown arms wrapped around her legs. The water lapped at the woman’s feet, the edges of a long gown of varying shades of blue undulated with the waves. Dark, chestnut hair cascaded over the woman’s back and shoulders._

_An aching suddenly filled Asami, and she unconsciously grasped at her own heart. She knew this pain, the pain of loss and grief. She felt a tear slip down her cheek as her free hand stretched toward the crying woman._

_“Korra,” Asami called._

_The woman looked up. Bright blue sapphires glimmered under the moonlight above tear-stained cheeks. They brightened, for a moment, before they narrowed. Asami felt the anger, tasted the bitter pain that filled those blue orbs._

_“You’re_ not _her,” Korra spat, standing up. “You’ll_ never _be her!”_

_She dove into the water and disappeared._

***

Asami opened her eyes in the dark. She blinked as she took in her surroundings: the support brackets above the bed for the storage shelf; the sliding door to the galley; the door of her wardrobe.

A soft snore pulled her eyes to the unconscious form lying in her bed. For a moment, Asami was confused as to why she was sleeping in the recliner and someone else was sleeping in her bed. Then she remembered with a wince the intense pain that had shot through her body as the woman – mermaid – _Korra_ – had grabbed her wrist.

_The generator_. Asami groaned quietly. She had to fix that if she wanted hot water, and in the South Pole she _definitely_ wanted hot water.

She wasn’t sure what time it was. She listened for the sounds of other boats and people. She heard a few calls and the odd bang or clunk. It was either near dawn and the fishermen were just getting started, or well after sunrise and they were all out to sea. Her Satophone was fried, sitting on the sink counter in the bathroom. _Not that it mattered,_ Asami thought. _It was just a glorified alarm clock this close to the pole._

The CEO thought back on her dream, sighing into the dark. She cast a cautious eye on the sleeping form in her bed. Korra was … a masterpiece. It was foolish to deny how attractive she was. Those muscles; those breasts; those abs; those _eyes._ No surprise she was having dreams about her. Pity she was rejected in the dream just as soundly as she’d been rejected by the mermaid in real life.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that Asami was bisexual; it just wasn’t discussed. She’d fooled around with a few girls in boarding school. When she graduated at 17, she’d casually dated a few guys. No one, male or female, had been serious enough to risk being seen in the tabloids.

General Iroh … Asami glared at the ceiling. She’d started dating _that_ douchebag when she was 18 before she was thrust into the position of CEO at 19. After that, time and stress effectively removed relationships from her life. Her best friend, Opal Beifong, had bought her a vibrator for her 21 st birthday (she was definitely her mother’s daughter), but Asami rarely used it. Not that she didn’t like it – she just didn’t have the energy to do more than pull it out of the nightstand drawer and put her hand under the cover before she passed out without even turning it on.

She’d considered having a fling with Mako when she first arrived at Port Arakaa, but she’d quickly decided against it. Mako was just too serious; she wanted to have fun on her vacation. Bolin was fun (he’d taken her otter penguin sledding, of all things), but everything about Bolin screamed “little brother” at the _cellular_ level. Everyone else in Port Arakaa was married or engaged or ancient or jailbait.

Her mind drifted to when she’d first met the mermaid. She could clearly see Korra’s naked torso, muscles glistening under the afternoon sun, trickles of salt water coursing between full breasts and tracing the lines of chiseled abs. And those eyes! Those gorgeous, captivating sapphires….

Asami huffed and pouted. _You’re getting worked up over a chimeric magical creature_ , she admonished herself. _A chimeric magical creature who hates you_.

She pulled her wrist from under the blanket, pulling at the sleeve of her flannel pajama top with the opposite hand so she could study the image on her wrist. It was black and sharp, as if it had been professionally tattooed onto her skin instead of branded from within her flesh.

The Republic City native thought of her father. She’d visited him just before she left on vacation. He still believed there was a nuclear war brewing between humans and aliens. The doctors at the asylum said he was probably only pretending to take his medications; they hadn’t figured out yet how he was circumventing their procedures. She couldn’t help but smile to herself. _They probably never will._

Her father seemed so … _normal_. When he wasn’t talking about alien invasions, that is. It made her question her own sanity. After all, in the past 24 hours she’d discovered mermaids and magic really do exist; which, if she said that to one of her father’s doctors, would land her in a pale green room with peaceful views of the northern mountains beyond bulletproof storm glass.

She fingered the mark, tracing the sinusoid curve as it intersected the inverted “V” with the short, blunt tip of a manicured nail, the opposing ends of the curve enfolding mirrored dots on either side. The “blood” could’ve just been horseshoe crab blood, planted to deceive her; the woman in her bed could’ve worn a very elaborate costume; she could’ve been exposed to a hallucinogen; her Satophone may have been swapped and/or planted. But the tattoo…. It gave her comfort, some surety that this wasn’t madness – or one of Varrick’s elaborate schemes (like the time he faked his own kidnapping. Or the time he faked his own death).

The CEO pulled in her bottom lip, worrying it between her teeth. If she accepted that everything that’d happened in the last 24 hours was real, then she needed to figure out a few things. Like, how she knew the mermaid’s name? Why did Korra have legs when she so obviously hated them? What was this machine Korra spoke of? How did Korra heal so quickly? How could she _feel_ Korra’s pain through a tattoo? Why hadn’t she felt that same burning surge of energy while she was carrying the mermaid and binding her ribs?

The frustrated woman glanced over at the bed again. The sides of the sleeping figure continued to rise and fall, undisturbed from her original position. Asami threw off her blanket and headed to the bathroom. She was going to work out her frustration the best way she knew how.

Two hours later, Asami had disconnected and marked all of the hoses and cables of the generator and was carefully prying out a cracked gear. She’d been pleasantly surprised to see that the electrical components were fine. Which, like _so many_ other things, puzzled her.

When she’d popped open her Satophone for a quick peek, she’d discovered that where the antenna should’ve been was now a charred black hole in the circuit board. It looked like an electrical overload, but it didn’t affect all of the current carrying devices on board.

The battery operated lights and the battery packs that the generator fed were fine, but the battery packs were drained. The electric stove and water heater circuitry were unaffected. All of the electrical instruments in the cockpit were spared as well. It was just her Satophone, the drained battery packs, and the generator. Which, apparently, had ground to a halt when extreme heat caused the gear to fail.

“Almost…” Asami grunted, the odd angle causing her to strain as she pulled. “Come on….” The gear finally slipped free and she carefully pulled it out of the compartment before dropping it into her free hand with a sigh.

She frowned. The ring was definitely cracked, nearly split apart. The metal looked stressed, but the signs were in opposing directions on the opposite sides. _Used and defective. Cheap bastards._

She clasped the gear in her hand. There was a tool shop in the village, down the street from the inn. She’d see if she could find a new replacement there. She looked up at the small digital clock she’d placed on the storage shelf. The numbers glowed 7:18.

_The inn isn’t open, but the boys will be up. Well, Mako will be up._

Asami looked toward the opening at the top of the stairs. Sighing, she pocketed the gear, stepped around and over and in between her organized chaos, and climbed the short steps out of the engine room and into the galley. She lowered the hatch door, which blended in with the wooden deck. The door to her quarters was open, with a clear view of the bed.

She quietly entered the quarters, staring at the lump on her bed until she could see the gentle rise and fall of the blanketed torso. Satisfied that Korra was still alive, she jotted a quick note on the tablet beside the mermaid’s belt. She washed up, checked her makeup (the CEO of Future Industries still had an image to maintain), pulled on her clean parka, and grabbed the plastic bag with her soiled parka and gloves.

The raven-haired woman glanced back toward the bed once more. The mermaid hadn’t moved from the position Asami had placed her. Not knowing the sleeping habits of mermaids, she wasn’t sure if that was normal or a problem. _I’ll bring food. Maybe she’ll wake up to eat. And answer a few questions._

The CEO really, _really_ wanted the mermaid to wake up. She had questions; lots and _lots_ of questions. Asami was currently operating under supposition and inference; she needed more information.

As she locked the door of the cabin, the sounds of the fishermen and fisherwomen of the village filled the port. People shouted and laughed, booted feet strode across wooden planks, bells clanged. She smiled and waved, said polite good mornings as she wove through the morning traffic. They all looked at her bag with mild curiosity, probably assuming the clothes had been damaged during last night’s generator failure – about which they probably all knew.

Her mind drifted as she slowly walked the now familiar route to the inn. A mermaid – an actual mermaid – had leapt out of mythology and onto her yacht, leaving chaos and destruction in her wake. Asami was a little unnerved at her own nonchalance at the day’s turn of events; then, again, witnessing your mother’s murder and your father’s madness is certain to alter perspective.

The race car enthusiast ruefully admitted to herself that she’d enjoyed the adrenaline rush of the previous day’s events. The situation was just the stimulation she craved after two weeks of peace and quiet. She was intrigued – not by the mythology of mermaids, but by the physiology of mermaids. The bluish green, coppery blood; the astounding amount of energy their bodies could channel; the ability to heal themselves and transfigure limbs.

Human beings were, essentially, walking sacks of chemical reactions. Muscle contraction, nerve function, inflammatory response – these were all possible through electron exchanges and periodic element gradients. Nearly every convention and symposium she attended included at least one panel about implanting technology into human beings as the next step in technological advancement. There were always discussions about immune response, long-term electrochemical effects, security risks, etc.

Future Industries had a research and development team solely dedicated to this burgeoning branch of technology. None of it was ready for her to sign off on, but the calculations alone of the estimation of how much energy a human body possesses were astounding. The rate at which energy was exchanged and converted was absolutely phenomenal, and most of it was completely automatic, preprogrammed in each cell by DNA.

Asami had often wondered what people could do if they could _control_ that energy. And, now, asleep in her bed, was a creature who apparently _could_ control that energy.

_Chi._ The Air Nomads spoke of “chi” and “connection”. Asami meditated on occasion to help herself relax and deep breathe through a panic attack, but she’d never put much stock in “cosmic energy”. _The Air Nation hasn’t changed their practices much in hundreds of years; they’ve nearly been driven to extinction and come back. Maybe that resilience is more than just community and cultural practice._

She worried the inside of her lower lip. The mermaid clearly believed there were machines that could manipulate chi; she also clearly believed that chi was the same as energy. _If it’s a matter of semantics, if “chi” is energy then “connection” could be a power grid, like the system on the boat. Of course, if that’s true, then_ every _machine on the boat manipulates “chi”._

Asami frowned in annoyance. There were too many unknowns! Part of her analytical mind told her to sever all ties with Korra. She wondered why she was so invested in the mermaid’s quest. Korra was rude, aggressive and violent; she deserved a swift kick to the head and an immediate ejection off Asami’s boat.

And, yet, when Asami thought about those deep, sad, sapphire eyes….

She sighed as she approached the door to the inn. She rapped the metal knocker against the door and waited. She soon heard locks sliding out of their homes and the door eased open to reveal a slim nose and bold, pointed eyebrows framing amber eyes.

“I didn’t expect you until later,” Mako said as she slipped past him into the building. “I figured you’d be working on your generator.”

“You heard about that already?”

“It’s a small village,” Mako shrugged, motioning for Asami to follow him around the back of the bar. “And we get fresh food delivered every day from the docks. Spider crabs are most active at night, so the traps are checked at first light. Kuruk’s spider crab stew is everyone’s favorite.”

She followed Mako through the stone kitchen, where three _giant_ pots were already bubbling on the huge wood-fire stove with the delicious smells of spices and shellfish. She could see lumps of green dough on a counter, and a huge wooden bowl of flattened green strings in front of a hand-cranked noodle press.

They walked through a door into a small, covered courtyard. Flames were licking at the bottom of a huge cauldron, suspended over the fire pit by a sturdy metal frame. A wooden paddle was cradled in the arms of a snoring Bolin, who was propped up against a large wooden bucket.

Asami giggled as Mako sighed. He reached out a hand to take the bag she was carrying.

“Don’t worry. _I’ll_ take care of these,” Mako assured her.

“What’s in the cauldron?” Asami asked.

“Linens. They’re super heavy when they’re wet – and _boiling_ hot – so we do them first when we can help each other before we open.”

Asami hummed in understanding. “Is the parts store open?”

“Okak’s? He opens at dawn,” Mako nodded.

“Perfect. I need to replace a part. I thought that generator was new, but it looks like it was actually rebuilt – with a used gear.”

“One of yours?”

Asami nodded, frowning. “It came with the yacht. I bought it through a broker while I was still in Republic City.”

“Figures,” Mako rolled his eyes. “You’re docked today, right? I’ll bring these to you later. Stop by and get some breakfast before you head back.”

“Thanks, Mako,” Asami replied with a warm smile. “I’d better get going. I need all the daylight I can get.”

Mako chuckled, setting down the bag before he led her back through the kitchen. “I’ll be sure to tell Bolin he missed you.”

Asami rolled her eyes, but chuckled. She waved again as she stepped into the street, the locks slipping back into place behind her. She made the short walk to the tool shop and opened the door, the bell ringing above her head.

“Be right thur!” a voice bellowed from an open door behind the counter.

“Take your time!” Asami yelled back, scanning the aisles for ridged metal rings.

“Oh ho!” the voice chuckled. “Figured you’d be hur sometime t’day!”

Asami rolled her eyes as she perused the shelves. “Word travels fast!”

“’Specially when a _Sato_ blows up hur own gen’ratur!” the voice answered.

“Can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs!” Asami replied, rifling through a promising looking box.

“’Spensive egg,” Okak laughed, coming around the counter to walk down Asami’s aisle. He was a Southerner of average height, his head shaved on one side, his long black hair braided back on the other, a few brownish/gray hairs beginning to show. His forearms were tattooed, sinewed, and veined. “Whatcha need?”

“External helical gear, low speed,” Asami said, comparing her broken gear with the one she’d just pulled out of the box.

“Right er left?”

“Right. I’d say … 100 millimeters.”

“We only have standurd,” Okak frowned, walking back to the supply room behind the counter. “Four?”

“Do I have a choice?” Asami sighed, following him to the counter.

A dry chuckle answered her as he disappeared through the doorway. She tapped the counter as she absently glanced at the clock. It was nearly 8a.

Okak reappeared with the gear in hand. “See if this’ll work.”

Asami smiled and accepted the gear, comparing it with the sheared one in her hand. The replacement and the original were identical. “It’s the exact same size,” Asami groaned.

“GI 600?”

The raven-haired woman shook her head, pulling the necessary cash out of the inner breast pocket of her parka. “FI S-Series.”

“Ah,” the man smiled knowingly, accepting the payment. “Rebuilt.”

“Yep,” Asami sighed as she pocketed her parts. All of Future Industries products were made with _metric_ dimensions. The size difference between the standard gear and its metric neighbors added stress to the already weakened part. “No wonder it failed.”

Okak shrugged. “Locals like standurd parts, even if they don’ fit thuh new models ‘xactly. Most o’em can’t afford new gen’raturs. Er tools.”

The CEO frowned and nodded. Future Industries had tried to break into the Southern Water Tribe market, but Global Industries had an exclusive contract with the Chief of both tribes, Unalaq. Prices were inflated; replacement parts were only sold in standard sizes; equipment was built with metric parts; and both Varrick and Unalaq were making money hand over fist.

Asami and Okak exchanged a little more small talk as she graciously danced around his questions about _what_ she was testing that blew out her generator. She walked out of the door with a friendly wave, two gears in her pockets, and a growling stomach as she headed back to the inn.

Just as she approached the door she heard the locks slide open. A grinning Boling greeted her with a woven kelp basket.

“Asami! Right on time!” Bolin squeezed her tight (very tight) with a one-armed hug. “There’s spider crab stew, squid dumplings, seaweed noodles, tuna steak, and hot chocolate. Oh! And kale cookies!”

“That’s … a lot of food.” Asami reached for the basket.

“I’m a growing boy!” Bolin exclaimed, pulling the door closed behind him as he kept the basket out of her reach.

_Oh, no._ “Bolin,” Asami sighed. “I can handle a generator. I don’t need help.”

“I know,” the younger man pouted, scuffing his toe on the sidewalk. “But I wanna help. And I’ve never been on a yacht.”

“Bo, now isn’t a good time-”

“See? That’s the problem with you and Mako,” Bolin frowned. He hooked his elbow into Asami’s and began marching toward the docks. “You two are too _serious_. This is your _vacation_! When is there _ever_ going to be a better time to hang out with new friends? Huh?!”

Asami looked back at the door to the inn over her shoulder. “What about Mako? Doesn’t he need help running the inn?”

“Nah. Kuruk’s already there. And it’ll be _so slow_ until dinnertime.”

“Bolin, I-”

The broad-shouldered man suddenly dropped to his knees in front of Asami, hands clasped in supplication, grass green eyes glistening with impromptu tears. Asami felt the heat rush violently to her cheeks and neck as some villagers stopped and stared.

“Pleeeease, Asami! I’m just a poor street orphan, far from home and broken by the big city’s mean streets! We’ve come to this fair hamlet seeking shelter from persecution and certain doom! Before I die, I have just one, simple request – to board, even for a moment, that most luxurious of private seafaring vessels: a yacht. _Your_ yacht, Asami.” He paused to take a deep breath, lower lip trembling. “Pleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseoh pleeeeease!”

“ _Okay!_ ” Asami hissed, holding up one hand to shield her face from prying eyes. “Just get up already!”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou,” Bolin cried, jumping up to grab the basket and Asami’s elbow once again.

Asami rolled her eyes as they made their way to her boat. The trip back to the docks was decidedly less introspective. More of the villagers who didn’t go out to fish were on the streets running their daily errands. She spent the next several minutes with a constant flush on her cheeks, as Bolin prattled on beside her. _How am I going to keep him from seeing Korra?_

When they reached her berth, the stocky man hummed in appraisal as Asami removed her arm from his grip and took a long step onto the metal ladder. “You know,” he said, taking in the grey and cream boat with crimson accents, “I thought it’d be bigger.”

Asami folded her arms as she looked down at him from the deck of her boat. “You can always go back.”

“What?!” He exclaimed, bounding onto the ship. “No way! I just got here!!”

“Shhh!” Asami hissed. Her mind raced to find a good reason to shush him. “I woke up a lot of people last night. They’re probably trying to catch up on sleep.” _Good one, Sato!_

“Oh!” Bolin whispered loudly. “Right! Gotcha!”

Asami sighed. _Seriously?_ She unlocked her cabin door and entered her “vacation home away from home”. After letting Bolin in she quickly trotted down the steps to the galley as he gawked at the furnishings of the main cabin. She hurried across the lower deck to slide the bedroom door closed on the blanketed lump still in the same position, still breathing evenly.

Bolin chuckled from behind her as he set the basket on the table. “Trust me; your bedroom _can’t_ _be_ as messy as mine.”

Asami shrugged as she strode to the hatch to the engine room, pulling off her parka and placing it in the galley booth. A few minutes later, she was giving Bolin an impromptu lesson in physics, his green eyes wide and nodding enthusiastically as she answered his many, many, _many_ questions. She was accustomed to working with people who already knew these things, or didn’t know these things and didn’t care as long as it made them _more_ money. She found herself smiling, thoroughly enjoying bonding with her new friend and watching his enthusiasm as she guided him through the repair and the reassembly of the generator, so engrossed that neither of them heard Mako when he called from the main cabin door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to upload "Inception" as one chapter with both points-of-view, but it was way too long.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented and kudoed. I really appreciate it. This is the first time anyone outside of my "circle" has ever read anything I've ever written. Why I chose something so ridiculously difficult is beyond me. If it wasn't for my soft deadline I'd never stop rewriting. :-/


	7. Inception (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a few tricky transitions in Part 2. I hope I managed to convey them clearly without making the chapter too long.

_Korra decided she didn’t like riding storms in the shallows. Back in the colony, the walls of ice and volcanic rock protected the waters from the worst of the storms. The few times she’d been caught out in their greater waters during a storm, her parents or her chaperone had kept to the deeper water, at least 50 feet below the surface, safe from bolts of lightning._

_Today, however, she found herself in the shallows during a raging winter storm, trying to keep up with Yuri. It wasn’t that it was particularly dangerous (outside of the lightning); it was just so damned disorienting! A riptide would suck you 50 feet deep, then a swell would hurl you tailfin-over-head 100 feet in the air. The ever swirling currents and changes in depth made her nauseated._

_Korra had asked for this. She was a youngling; too old and bored to stay in the protected waters of the colony, too young and inexperienced to venture into the open waters by herself. Her hips had flared and her breasts were developed; she could jump higher and hurl a spear farther than anyone else in the colony; but she still couldn’t leave home without a chaperone._

_Somehow, she’d managed to convince her parents to let Yuri be her chaperone that day. Yuri had only been of age for a year, and she had a habit of ignoring rules and endangering herself and others for a thrill – not unusual for young merfolk, really. And easily forgivable, as she was also an exceptional scavenger and a decent hunter. And if Korra was going to be chief someday, she needed to learn the ins and outs of every facet of her people._

_Scavengers were their connection to the outside world, the gatherers of knowledge so they could protect themselves from the human’s technological and physical advances. The humans may have forgotten merfolk existed, but the landwalkers’ actions impacted the lives of every mermaid and merman on the planet._

_And storms were scavengers’ best friends. After all, sunny days don’t sink ships._

_(“Korra has a point dear,” Senna had said the night before as Korra pretended to sleep. “She needs to learn how to scavenge, too.”_

_“It’s not the ‘what’ that concerns me,” Tonraq had muttered. “It’s the ‘who’.”_

_“Yuri is definitely a mermaid,” Senna had sighed. “Scale to spine. The best scavengers_ are _.”_

_Tonraq had snorted._

_“Korra is young,” Senna had said, “but she’s also smart, and kind, and strong. And extremely stubborn. She has a good spirit, and she won’t do anything she doesn’t_ want _to do. We have to trust_ Korra _, okay?”)_

_“Ship ahead!!”_

_The sound of Yuri’s voice pulled Korra back to the present. She turned her head to see Yuri’s lean body suddenly dip, then shoot ahead as she caught a current Korra swore hadn’t been there two seconds before. She quickly slipped into the current and hurtled through the rough waters after the older mermaid._

_Of course, the current abruptly stopped and Korra was caught in a rip. She struggled to pull out of it, the force of the water dragging her deeper. She looked up, startled, when a hand grabbed her upper arm. She shivered as Yuri yelled in her ear, “Don’t fight it!”_

_Korra nodded and relaxed, grateful that Yuri kept a solid grip on her bicep. The pressure squeezed her chest; she forced herself to breathe. The next instant she was floating – higher and higher – until she could see the roiling black clouds above her through only a few inches of water._

_Then she was falling. She frantically swam through the cresting wave with both arms and fin, ripping herself out of Yuri’s hold. She felt the water taking her down as she reached for the dark sky, threatening to slam her into the ocean’s floor._

_Suddenly, Korra was free. She hung suspended in midair, wind whipping her kite-tails, the thunder no longer muffled as it crashed against her eardrums. She looked down; the surface of the water was at least 70 feet below her._

_‘That’s gonna hurt,’ she thought as she began to descend._

_Hands grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to turn. She instinctively wrapped her arms around her savior’s back and buried her face in their chest._

_“Hang on!!” Yuri yelled, her voice vibrating through her sternum into Korra’s nose. They corkscrewed into the water, the dizzying spin driving them into deeper, calmer waters. They eventually slowed, and Korra felt a gentle tug on her high kite-tail._

_“You okay?”_

_“Y-yeah,” Korra mumbled into skin._

_“You feel like puking, don’t you.”_

_“Y-yeah.”_

_Korra felt the chuckle more than she heard it. Yuri eased them a little deeper, slowly, until the queasiness passed and the blue-eyed youngling felt it was safe to lift her head without hurling in the face of her crush._

_“Sorry,” Korra said softly, releasing her grip._

_“For what?” Yuri asked, moving to hug Korra in a less motherly position._

_Korra didn’t reply, too stunned by Yuri’s willing embrace. She laid her flushed cheek on Yuri’s slender shoulder and closed her eyes, savoring the sensation of their torsos pressed together. She focused on the swell of the older mermaid’s chest, slowly adjusting her breathing to match. Inhale-to-inhale; exhale-to-exhale._

_“Why did you swim_ out _of the swell?” Yuri asked. “Hitting the surface from that high could’ve broken your neck.”_

_Korra shrugged._

_“You know, most mermaids swim_ down _when they’re scared,” Yuri teased. “You always swim_ up _.”_

_“I wasn’t scared,” Korra lied. She knew Yuri was right; she always swam up when she was spooked or panicked underwater. It was something the older mermaid had teased her about many times as a calf. Another tug on her kite-tail forced her to reluctantly ease out of the embrace. Korra nervously rubbed the back of her neck, looking up to meet Yuri’s dark green gaze through her own umber bangs._

_Yuri stared at her, squid ink hair waving and bobbing with the current, holding her position with only the occasional flick of her mother-of-pearl tailfin. Korra’s heart skipped a beat. Her mother was right; Yuri was a_ mermaid _. She wasn’t just at ease in the wild waters. She was_ one _with the ocean, rock and riptide, crest and chasm, protective and precarious._

_And beautiful._ Soooo _beautiful._

_A small smile tugged at Yuri’s lips and she grabbed Korra’s hand. “Come on, scaredy squid.”_

_“Am not!”_

_“Sure,” Yuri drawled, grinning back over her shoulder. “We’ll see on the next swell.”_

_Korra smirked back, her brow furrowed with determination, her strong fingers intertwined with Yuri’s long fingers and her heart – among other parts – aching with desire. ‘I’m_ not _a scaredy squid,’ Korra thought, ready to prove herself despite the twisting of her stomach. ‘This time, I’ll be strong. This time, I’ll be ready.’_

***

Korra blinked against the sunlight streaming across her face. She inhaled and hissed in pain, immediately regretting the action. She remained still until the pain eased, then took in her surroundings.

She was in a wood-paneled room, under a blanket, on a bed. The door to the room was open, and she could see what looked like the galley. She could feel the gentle rocking of the waves underneath the boat, reminding her of her dream. She smirked to herself. No one could claim she was a scaredy squid now – insane, possibly; stupid, definitely; but not scared.

She carefully turned over far enough to see that the other side of the bed was still neatly made, and realized she was lying on top of the tucked covers. The reclining chair next to the bed was draped with a disheveled blanket and askew pillow. _She slept in the chair?_ Korra suddenly remembered how close she came to vomiting on the human. She grimaced at the memory. _No wonder she slept in the chair._

Korra cautiously lifted the blanket and assessed herself. Her ribcage was wrapped in bandages (for which she was immensely grateful). She still had legs (for which she was _not_ grateful), which were clad in pale sand-colored pants with little red rat thingies crawling all over them. She dropped the blanket. _Odd taste._

The mermaid closed her eyes and listened. She could hear the occasional shout of a fisherman outside, but nothing from inside the boat. _She must’ve left_. Korra pressed her injured side into the folded pillow beneath her, soaking in what little warmth and energy she could from the light filtering through the portal window.

Korra went over her options. She could leave, but sneaking out in broad daylight in her injured state would be difficult. She wished she knew where the human had gone and what she was doing. She carefully flexed a foot. _At least if she brings someone else, I can pretend to be human_.

A sharp pain trailed across her ribs and she held her breath until it passed. Details of the previous night were a little hazy after she hit that table, but she remembered clearly just how ill-prepared she was for that fight; she wasn’t used to fighting on land, or on legs. And Asami was _clearly_ adept; her reflexes were sharp, her movements fluid, her stance balanced. In comparison, Korra’d looked like, well, a fish out of water.

She dragged a hand over her face as she groaned in embarrassment. _Wait a sec…_. She pulled her hand away from her face and looked closely at her wrist. A rune was tattooed on her bronze skin in sharp, black strokes. “Balance,” she whispered, recognizing the marking. _Why-_.

The sunlight in the room surged, filling the small space with a blinding white. Korra squinted against it, shielding her eyes with her arm. When the light faded, she found herself standing on the black volcanic sand of the cove; she could see the mouth of the cave she’d shared with Yuri. She felt something brushing against her skin and looked down to see the bindings and rodent-patterned pants had been replaced with a gown in varying shades of blue.

It drifted against legs in the breeze as her long hair, free of its usual kite-tails, caressed her bare shoulders. “How….” She trailed off as details, memories began to the surface.

_I was here. Last night. With Asami._

She turned her gaze toward the mouth of the cave with a guilty sigh. She was In-Between, in the space where the spirit world and the physical world intersected. It was a difficult place to access; some merfolk would never reach it. Korra had, once, before Yuri died. She’d tried to come back, many times, hoping to see her lover again. _Yuri_ ; who’d gazed upon her with such tender adoration after pleasure-filled hours of searching hands and soft moans; who’d combed her hair on lazy mid-mornings basking on the rocks; who’d kissed her awake on golden dawns when she’d slept through the hunters’ horn.

Who’d died before they could be moored, tethered to each other’s souls for the rest of their lives.

The grief had hit her hard; the bitter rage tore through her heart as if the green-eyed mermaid had just died that night. When Asami had appeared…. Korra couldn’t take it. It was just so … final.

She fingered the fresh markings of the rune on her wrist, suspicions forming in the back of her mind. She pursed her lips in thought as she stared at the cave. When the voice began speaking behind her she didn’t even flinch.

“Hello, Korra.”

Korra turned around. Sure enough, on the beach beside Korra sat the colony’s healer and shaman, Katara. Her white hair was tucked back in a neat roll at the base of her neck, a thin loop of braid framing each side of her wrinkled, sagging face. Her blue eyes were still bright and intelligent, and she wore a large pouch of white kite skin draped across the faded blue whale hide of her chest wrap. Her scales were a little rough, but still reflected the sunlight in dazzling sparks of blue.

Korra put her fists together and bowed her head to the older mermaid. “What happened?” she asked as she stood up straight.

“You tell me.”

Korra frowned. “I’m … not sure.”

“Where is your body?” Katara asked, waving her hand to invite Korra to sit. “Senna went to your cave last night to bring you something to eat, but you’d left. She slept there waiting for you to return. Your parents are very worried. Tonraq asked me to search for you, but you’re not in our waters.”

A hand reflexively drifted to the back of Korra’s neck as she gave a sheepish shrug in response. She sank onto the beach in front of the shaman, mirroring the older mermaid’s bent-tail pose. “I-I, uhhh. Th-that’s, ummm.”

Katara raised her eyebrows. Korra couldn’t quite read her expression. It seemed mildly surprised, but deeply concerned. “You’re moored.”

_Shit._ The younger mermaid flinched and quickly dropped her hand into her lap, folding her hands together. “Uhhhhh,” she stuttered.

“To a human.”

Her blue eyes flew wide. _How did she-?!_ “It wasn’t my fault! I swear!” Korra exclaimed. “I don’t know how we-! It just sort of … happened.” She deflated, her shoulders drooping.

“Let me see,” Katara asked, holding out a hand. Korra extended her arm, letting the strong wrinkled fingers trace and poke and twist her wrist in examination. She watched Katara’s face; the shaman’s lips were moving but she could only hear the occasional faint whisper. An odd, gentle tingling jolt would occasionally follow a poke or trace, not unlike lightning dissipating through the ocean’s surface.

The elderly mermaid released Korra’s wrist with a sad sigh and a gentle pat on the back of her hand. A frown had settled on her wrinkled features. “My poor Korra,” she said.

It was Korra’s turn to frown as she cradled her wrist in her other hand. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“A mooring is only performed on the night of a full moon,” Katara explained. “The connection is strong; very strong. But it’s incomplete.”

“That’s why I didn’t fully heal,” Korra remarked.

“You’re hurt? Where are you?”

“No no no,” Korra said, waving her hands in an attempt to ease the elder’s worry. “I’m fine. My body’s fine. Well, sort of. I was hurt, but I’m okay. It’s just a little pleurisy. No worse than when I wrestled that giant shark squid.”

“Korra,” Katara sighed, closing her eyes. “That does not make me _less_ concerned.”

“Really, it’s not that bad,” she insisted. “Really! I’m safe. Snug as a clam in the sand.” _At least for now_ , Korra thought, hoping the human didn’t come back and make her eat those words. “What about the mooring? You said the connection is ‘incomplete’?”

The shaman fixed Korra with her steady blue eyes for a few moments before continuing. “Yes. Your chi are not properly fused. It makes the mooring … unpredictable.”

“Can you _un_ -moor us?” Korra asked. Her heart _pinched_ , and she frowned to herself. _What was that?_

“Yes,” Katara said slowly, eyeing Korra from head to toe. “But that requires both of you being in direct contact with the Source on the full moon.”

_Oh._ “But, she’s human. That would….”

Katara nodded. “I can properly moor the two of you, on the full moon, but you’d both have to be in the colony. The magic in the water is strong enough for that.”

The young mermaid swallowed hard. “I-is there another option?”

Katara shook her head. “An incomplete connection cannot be sustained. At some point, one of you will drain the other.”

The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fit together. Korra’s shoulders sagged and she fingered the smooth cloth of the blue dress. “She’s draining me, isn’t she? Just like those drowning devices.”

Katara nodded again. “I’m afraid so. How did this happen, Korra? Tell me _everything_. Don’t leave out a single detail.”

Korra looked up into kind, concerned blue eyes. She thought of her mother, waiting all night for her only calf to come home. She imagined the look on her father’s face when Senna’d told him she hadn’t returned. “It started a couple of weeks ago….”

The young mermaid told the entire story of how she met the human and the sequence of events that led to her body now lying, bandaged and (hopefully) safe in the human’s own bed. Katara had interrupted occasionally with a question, and had seemed particularly interested in the human’s features and her name.

When Korra finished, the shaman reached into her pouch and pulled out a few whale fin bones and a mortar and pestle. She scooped a little sand into the mortar, put the whale bones on top, and proceeded to grind the bones and sand with the pestle. Once the two were indistinguishable from one another, Katara tapped the end of the pestle on the mortar three times, then gently blew into the bowl.

Korra watched in awe as the dust rose up into the morning light, sparkling and crackling as it began to form pictures. She saw a pulsing sphere of swirling silver, black and rust. It morphed into an eruption – no, an _explosion_ – of red, black and orange. The smoke formed a jagged halo over the setting sun as arctic cranes dropped from the sky and a badly burned polar bear dog fell to the ice. The iceberg rippled beneath the impact, and the image switched to the ocean below the fire and ice. Orcas, fish and whales seized and shuddered, their blood seeping into the water. The image shifted again, this time to the Source, its beautiful, peaceful, life-giving light pulsing like a heartbeat. It dimmed, flickered, then shattered, and the sphere of dark silver took its place.

“After the last solstice I began to have these visions,” Katara said, also watching the cloud of morphing pictures. “I’ve communed with the ancestors and the spirits for many months to fully understand their meaning before I shared them with your father.”

“What do they mean?” Korra breathed in horror, unable to look away as the disturbing images swirled in succession from one to another.

“It means our time in the South Pole has come to an end.”

Korra looked directly at the shaman. She looked tired; older. “I don’t understand.”

“This world will always seek its balance. Something happened after the last solstice to irreversibly tip the scales, and our access to the Source will be lost because of it. We cannot survive in the colony without it. Either we find a new home,” Katara sighed. “Or we perish.”

Tears dripped off of Korra’s chin before she realized she was crying. She’d known the lack of food and the increased attacks of those machines were a threat to their people, but she’d been worried about the increased loss of life – not the annihilation of her _home_. The lagoon, the cove, the beaches, the sunning rocks, the cavernous library, the perpetual fog – created by the steaming and reforming of ice around the lips of the simmering volcanoes – that shielded it from prying eyes.

Even if they’d have to leave to find food and safety, she’d thought it would be _temporary_. She’d thought that they’d find a way to wait the humans out, survive with most of their numbers intact. She’d thought that one day they would come _back_.

“Where will we go?” Korra whispered. She was taken aback when she looked up into a smiling shaman’s face, her bright blue eyes twinkling in the light. The mortar and pestle were no longer on the sand, put away in the confines of the pouch while Korra’d been lost in her morose thoughts.

“I believe,” Katara said gesturing toward Korra’s wrist, “Your mate might be able to help us with that.”

Korra felt a hot flush rapidly rush from her shoulders to her ears. “Sh-she’s _not_ my mate!”

Katara chuckled. “Yes, she is. Just not physically. Yet.”

“K-Katara!” Korra stammered, folding her arms across her chest. She quickly unfolded them when she glanced down and was reminded of her mother’s blue whale hide.

“Calm down, Little Warrior,” Katara chuckled, calling Korra by the term she’d used when she was a calf. Korra pouted in protest. “I’ll talk to your parents, let them know you’re safe. Your father won’t be happy, but I’ll smooth things over. After all,” she winked. “You’re sleeping in the bed of the woman who just might save us.”

Korra groaned, dropping her face into both hands. “And exactly _how_ is she supposed to save us?” Korra muttered. “She nearly drowned me, remember? And, even if she can, what if she decides she doesn’t want to help us?” Korra lifted her head and frowned at the older mermaid. “I haven’t exactly given her a good impression.”

“I believe she will. And I believe both of you will be better for it.”

Korra lifted an umber eyebrow. “Why? What makes you so sure?”

“Simple,” Katara said, leaning forward to press her wrinkled thumb firmly between Korra’s eyes. “There’s no such thing as coincidence.”

***

Korra opened her eyes. She was back in the bed, still under the blanket. The swath of sunlight had moved off of her face to her shoulder. The door to the room was closed. _Asami must’ve come back while I was with Katara._

The mermaid fiddled with the corner of the pillow, Katara’s visions and words racing through her mind. She wondered how she was going to explain the situation to the human. _This is all my fault,_ she thought with a pang of guilt. Despite Korra’s actions, the human had been kind to her; wanted to help her.

Distant, muffled laughter filtered into the room. Korra glanced toward the door. She smiled as she realized it was Asami’s voice. Even muffled she could tell it was a warm laugh, genuine, gentle. She liked it.

She moved her arm to look at the rune again. “Last night I hated her,” Korra whispered. “Now….” She closed her eyes as Asami laughed again. Her heart warmed at the sound, as did the rest of her when she unconsciously snuggled her face into the pillow and was greeted with a sweet perfume and a sudden reminder that she was in Asami’s bed.

Asami, the woman whom she knew absolutely nothing about except that she was human and beautiful. Asami, the woman to whom she was now – spiritually – mated.

Katara’s insinuations came to mind. It’d been _two years_ since anyone had touched her like that. Yuri was her first and only lover; she’d hoped the older mermaid would be her mate some day, but Yuri was still so wild and impetuous and, well, selfish. Korra had hoped, but Yuri just wasn’t … ready.

But that hadn’t stopped them from enjoying all of the physical perks of a monogamous relationship. A familiar, aching longing spread from her chest to her abdomen to a not-so-familiar clenching below her waist. She slid one hand down to press against the unexpected spasm in the hopes of calming the sensation, but was instead rewarded with another – stronger – not unpleasant clenching.

A soft gasp involuntarily escaped her lips. _That’s … kinda nice._ She absently wondered just how different this human body was from her mermaid one.

She heard a sliding noise and a dull thunk. Korra snatched her hand from its warm nest and snapped sapphires toward the sound. The door was open, and in the doorway stood a tall human with thin, sharp features; obsidian hair; pointed eyebrows like dorsal fins; and amber eyes. A tall, human _man_. Holding a light purple parka, in a clear plastic bag, on a wire hanger.

The pair stared at each other. He was wearing a startled, slightly embarrassed expression that Korra was certain was mirrored on her own face, only accented by an increasingly warm flush she was certain anyone could see from the moon.

A red furry face with a white-and-black mask and beady amber eyes suddenly filled Korra’s field of vision, accompanied by a cheery purring squeak.

“AAGGHH-ungh!-fuck!” Korra rolled onto her injured side, pressing the folded pillow into herself as she curled into a ball. Tears stung as they squeezed out of the corners of her shut eyes.

“Pabu!” The man shouted. “Sorry! Sorry! He was just saying, ‘hi’!”

“Pabu?!” Another male voice shouted, muffled and distant.

“Korra?!”

The mermaid cracked her eyes open to see Asami climbing out of a hole in the deck floor, her emerald eyes flashing and her thin eyebrows drawn together. She marched through the galley as another pair of green eyes emerged from below, set in a man’s large, round head. The red rat thingy ran out of the quarters and curled around his massive shoulders. _Good riddance._

Asami stormed into the room and placed herself deliberately between the tall man and Korra. The mermaid noticed a very heavy-looking wrench in her gloved hand. “What are you doing in my quarters, Mako?”

The man’s pointy eyebrows shot skyward, then lowered in annoyance. “I was bringing you your parka. Like I said I would. This morning.”

“Do you usually enter people’s private residences without knocking?”

“I _did_ knock! Several times! And I called out _both_ of your names! It’s not my fault you two were too busy playing with the engine to hear me!”

“It’s actually a generator,” the other man said from the galley. Korra could see him and the rat thingy sitting on the opposite side of the table, both (to Korra’s disgust) eating green noodles from the same container. “And we weren’t _playing._ We were _repairing._ ”

“Not _now_ , Bolin,” Mako said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’m just saying-”

“BOYS!” Asami snapped, effectively shutting them both up. She held out her hand and Mako handed her the parka. She then pointed to the doorway with the wrench. Mako quickly exited, tossing one last quiet, “sorry” to Korra as he slid the door closed.

Asami huffed as she hung up the parka in the wardrobe before kneeling on the floor in front of Korra, a concerned expression replacing her anger. “I am _so_ sorry about them. I went to get a part this morning for the generator and I dropped off my soiled parka and Bolin _invited himself_ and I had no _idea_ Mako was even on board and-” she inhaled and exhaled roughly. “Are you okay?”

Korra raised an eyebrow. “Nooo,” she responded incredulously.

The green eyed woman covered her mouth with a gloved hand streaked with grease, her cheeks rising above with an ill-suppressed giggle. “Sorry. Stupid question.”

Korra rolled her eyes as she started to ease herself out of her fetal curl.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Korra grunted as she slowly pushed herself up in a seated position, legs off the side of the bed, bare bronze feet on the floor. “Still not used to _these_ things,” she grimaced, poking a thigh.

Asami glanced at the door. She pulled her ruby bottom lip between her white teeth, emerald eyes glinting with gold in the sunlight.

That familiar longing rushed through Korra again, and she felt her ears flush. “Don’t do that,” Korra whispered.

The human faced Korra with raised eyebrows. “Do what?”

Korra shook her head, looking down at legs. “Never mind.” She cleared her throat, fingering the cloth. “What’s with the rats?”

“They’re not rats,” Asami giggled. “They’re fire ferrets. That’s what Pabu is. They’re from the Earth Kingdom.”

“ _That_ was a fire ferret?” Korra jerked her thumb toward the door. “Huh. Looks different in pictures.”

Asami fixed her with an inquisitive expression. “You have books.”

Korra nodded. “A library full of ‘em. Not much new, though. Humans don’t read as much as they used to, and the quality of the new publications is _awful_.”

“So, that part of the legends _is_ true. I have so many questions,” Asami sighed, shaking her head. She glanced at the door, frowning. “I’m assuming you don’t want them to know you’re a mermaid.”

“You assumed correctly.”

“I doubt Mako would believe it, anyway,” Asami shrugged. “He’s probably already come up with his own explanation. I’ll let him invent your cover story. Are you hungry?”

Korra’s stomach growled in reply.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” Asami chuckled, standing up. “Just give me a few minutes to send these two home and I’ll bring you something.” She paused as she turned to the door. “Do you prefer your seafood raw or cooked?”

“We usually cook our food. Tastes better.” Korra’s hand slipped to her waist out of habit. “Where’s my belt?”

“Oh! On the nightstand. I thought you’d be more comfortable.”

Blue eyes followed the taller woman’s gesture, spotting the treasured belt on the wood-grained surface. She began to reach for it just as she realized she’d sat up too far down the bed to do so without pain.

“Here, let me.” Asami stepped over to the nightstand. She set down the wrench, took off her gloves, and picked up the belt. She sat down on the bed.

Korra held her breath as sure, smooth hands reached around her, stomach muscles involuntarily flinching as fingers grazed over them. She watched as the woman knotted the belt in place at her hip, then gingerly let it settle. She exhaled slowly, raising her eyes to meet an intense green gaze. _Sweet Raava, yes._ Whatever _she’s thinking – yes._

A knock on the door caused both of them to whip their heads toward the sound. Korra mentally cursed as Asami quickly stood up from the bed.

“Asami?” Mako’s voice carried through the door. “We have to get back to the inn. Do you still need Bo?”

“Damn,” Asami cursed under her breath as she grabbed the gloves and the wrench off of the nightstand. “Yes!” she shouted to the door. “Hang on! I’ll be right out!”

She looked back at Korra, the disappointment in her emerald eyes mirroring Korra’s own. “I still need to test the generator before we head out on the open water. It’ll be faster with a couple of extra hands.” She paused, opened her mouth, closed it. She quickly crossed to the door, pulling on her gloves while holding the wrench tucked under her chin. She held the wrench in her hand once again as she slid open the door.

The tall man was leaning against the stove, one heel crossed over his supporting foot, arms crossed over his chest, a brooding frown on his face. He looked directly into Korra’s eyes, and his amber gaze seemed to be asking a question. Korra was struck by how intensely troubled his expression seemed. She didn’t know how to respond, so she turned her attention toward Bolin, who was waving to her across the galley like she was halfway across the dock. She cautiously lifted a hand and half-heartedly wiggled her fingers. She couldn’t help but return a crooked grin when the man beamed, every tooth in his head on full display.

“Do you want to eat now?”

Korra looked over at Asami as she spoke. She was hungry, but she didn’t want to interact with any more humans than she had to. Especially Mako. She shook her head no, realizing with some trepidation that her hair was a disheveled mess. She raised a hand and self-consciously tugged at a kite-tail.

“Okay. Try to get some rest,” Asami smiled. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Korra nodded, avoiding the brooding man’s gaze as the door slid closed behind Asami. She heard well muffled voices through the door, and she realized after straining to make out what was said that the door and the walls had extra insulation. She had a feeling the green-eyed man wasn’t exactly quiet. _I wonder what he said that made Asami laugh so hard?_

She untied each kite-tail (though they were hardly more than stumps at that point) and tied the blue strips of hide around her wrist so as not to lose them. She eased back onto the bed, shifting her hips a bit around the folded pillow to keep her belt from digging into her scale-less flesh. She pulled the cover up to her shoulder and pressed her nose into the pillow under her head, inhaling the sweet perfume as deeply as she dared without triggering a spasm of pain.

“What have I gotten us into,” she quietly questioned the room. Korra thought of green eyes – only, this time, she wasn’t sure what shade of green they were.


	8. Assumptions

She was insane.

That was the only explanation. She’d finally cracked. After two years of sleepless nights and stressful days and managing professional and financial conflagrations every week, she’d finally succumbed to the madness. While on vacation, no less.

There was no other logical explanation for what she’d almost done. Hell, there was no other logical explanation for what she’d _done._ She was _attacked_ by an _intruder_ , and then provided said intruder with medical care, shelter and food. _After_ this same intruder insulted her and stole her dinner.

And, yet, despite all of those things, she’d damn near _kissed_ said intruder.

This was the second time she’d felt that incredible pull to _touch_ the mermaid. Part of her brain screamed that putting the belt on the injured woman was a bad idea, but she did it anyway, relishing in the twitch of taut muscles under tawny skin. She’d noticed the blush and the soft hitch in Korra’s breath. When she’d looked into those beautiful blue eyes, she swore Korra was waiting, wanting her to close the gap between them.

It took all of Asami’s will-power (and a well-timed knock) to resist. There was also something else that gave her pause, something in Korra’s eyes, below the desire – a desperate sadness that was achingly familiar to the beleaguered heiress. Whatever the mermaid had been through, she’d clearly been traumatized by it.

It was hard to close the door behind her, leaving the troubled figure sitting uneasily on the side of the bed. She took a moment to gather herself before she looked up to meet the questioning expressions of the two orphaned brothers. Bolin grinned expectantly from the galley table; Mako frowned suspiciously against the stove.

She sighed internally. Despite her promise to Korra, she wasn’t sure how she was going to spin this scenario. She needed their _silence_. However, from his expression, whatever conclusion Mako was leaning toward might land her in jail. Korra definitely looked Water Tribe, and human trafficking between the Southern Water Tribe and the United Republic was a hot topic in international news. The last thing Future Industries needed was more negative publicity about its CEO; and, in this case, the truth was probably more damaging than the rumor.

Her stomach turned at the thought. _What a world we live in, where buying and selling people against their will is more easily forgiven than believing in mermaids or extraterrestrial beings._

“Soooo….” Bolin broke the silence, waggling his eyebrows at her. “Who’s your frieeeend?”

“It’s not like that Bolin,” Asami said. She felt the warmth in her cheeks increase.

“Right, right,” Bolin nodded sagely, “because everyone keeps secret women hidden in their one-bedroom yachts. Come on, Asami!” He exclaimed. “The gorgeous, single and famously cold-intolerant CEO of Future Industries takes a vacation at the edge of the Southern Water Tribe – by herself – where there’s no internet and no cell phone reception? Everyone knew you were hiding something! Or, in this case, _someone_.”

Asami rolled her green eyes as Bolin continued to waggle his thick eyebrows over his. “Did it occur to any of you that I just wanted some peace and quiet for a few weeks?”

“Yeah, that’s what you said,” Bolin conceded, “but hiding your lesbian lover makes so much more sense!”

“It’s not like that!” Asami huffed, putting a hand on her hip. “And just because a woman is in another woman’s bed does not make them ‘lesbian lovers’!”

“Sorry, sorry, my bad,” Bolin said. “Bisexual. Forgot about the whole Iroh thing.”

“What?!”

“So,” Mako interjected. “You two are _just_ friends?”

Asami glared at Bolin before turning her head toward Mako. “ _Yes_.”

He raised a pointy eyebrow. “So why hasn’t she come with you to the inn? And why haven’t you ever mentioned her before?”

Asami groaned internally. _Walked right into that one._ Port Arakaa was so small that everyone literally knew everyone else. Asami was the only outsider who’d docked in a month. The only way a strange Water Tribe woman could be on her boat today is if she’d already been on it when Asami arrived two weeks ago. “It’s … complicated.”

“What’s so ‘complicated’ that you can’t even acknowledge the existence of a Water Tribe woman in the Southern Water Tribe?” Mako asked.

“Well,” Bolin mused. “Her mom’s dead; her dad’s in an asylum; her only public romantic relationship ended in disaster; she just saved her family’s international multibillion-yuan corporation from ruin; and she does business with companies in the Earth Kingdom, which is notoriously homophobic.” The green-eyed man shrugged. “If I were Asami, I’d keep my new lesbian relationship a secret, too.”

“We’re _not_ in a relationship,” Asami said.

“So, why do you have matching tattoos?” Bolin smirked as Asami’s brain drew a blank, unable to provide a timely and sensible response to the unexpected observation. “I rest my case.”

Asami sighed in defeat. She preferred Bolin’s version of events (especially as part of her really wished it was true) to her paranoid supposition of Mako’s suspicions. However, part of her felt really guilty. She already felt bad about being so forward with Korra with the belt. Now, she was allowing them to depict the mermaid as her illicit lover.

“Fine,” Asami said quietly. “We’re not ‘just friends’. But I’d greatly appreciate it if both of you would keep this to yourselves.”

“Of course!” Bolin said, holding up his hands. “We’re great at keeping secrets. But I am _dying_ to know how you two got together! I _love_ love stories.”

“Seriously?” Asami arched an eyebrow.

“Oh, he’s serious,” Mako said. “He talks a lot, but he never tells outright secrets. It’s a survival skill growing up in the triads. And, he’s a hopeless romantic.”

“Star-crossed lovers, riding the high seas!” Bolin sighed. “You’re _so_ lucky.”

“Star-crossed lovers usually die, Bolin,” Mako sighed. He turned to Asami. “We don’t have much time before the dinner rush. What do you need us to do?”

“To cold start the generator without the batteries, I have to start the engine first _then_ flip the breaker. I need you,” she inclined her head toward Mako, “to go to the cockpit and start the engine. And be ready to turn it off if something goes wrong.”

Mako nodded, his eyes never leaving Asami’s.

“Bolin.” Asami turned to the younger brother. “I need you to get a pail of seawater. We’ll fill the generator, secure the cover, and give Mako the signal.”

Bolin stood up straight and saluted. “Aye aye, Cap’n!” He hurried off up the stairs.

“The pail is in the supply closet next to the cockpit!” Asami yelled after him.

“Got it!”

Asami smiled before she turned her attention back to Mako. He was still propped up against her stove, brooding in her direction. She cocked an eyebrow.

“Korra, huh?”

Asami nodded, eyebrow still raised.

Mako sighed, shaking his head. “There’s something about her. I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t like it. I don’t think she’s hiding to save your professional reputation. It’s none of my business. It’s your boat. I just hope you know what you’re getting into.”

“No, not really,” Asami admitted. “But I’m pretty tough. I think I can handle it.”

“Just … be careful,” he warned.

“I will. I promise.”

They both looked up as they heard the main cabin door close. A few moments and heavy footsteps later and Bolin was carefully coming down the steps with a mop bucket full of seawater. Asami headed down into the engine room, where Bolin handed her the bucket before he and Mako climbed down behind her.

“It’s so cool, bro!” Bolin gushed, taking the pail from Asami. She picked up the funnel and held it in the appropriate opening so he could pour in the seawater. “It doesn’t use fuel!”

“What?” Mako raised a pointy eyebrow.

“That’s right. This,” Asami patted the uncovered assortment of gears, wires and pipes with her free hand, “is the Future Industries S-Series convertible generator. The standard configuration runs on diesel, but with a few minor modifications it runs perpetually on a closed system with nothing but magnets, batteries and salt water.”

“Magnets, batteries and salt water.” Mako repeated incredulously.

“I know, right?! I didn’t believe it either until Asami explained it to me. ” Bolin exclaimed, setting down the bucket. He began pointing as he demonstrated. “See, here is where the seawater enters the generator. It branches here; one goes to cool all the moving parts, the other goes to this where it gets charged by the batteries. That makes the magnets spin, which makes enough electricity to re-charge the batteries. And it keeps going and going and going-”

“I get it,” Mako interrupted. He turned his attention to Asami. “Why haven’t you built a Satomobile with one of these?”

“We have a few prototypes,” Asami said. “But it’s incredibly expensive and there are lots of variables that make it impractical, if not impossible. Weather; stop-and-go traffic; availability of magnetic materials; battery technology; mass of the car; electromagnetic interference. It’s a challenging endeavor.”

The three chatted as Bolin and Asami bolted the cover back on the generator. Mako hurried up to the cockpit as Asami took her position at the breaker switch, her eyes glued to the meters at the base of each battery cell in the bank. Once they all reached five percent she’d flip on the breaker that directly powered the generator. She’d prefer ten percent, but five percent was within tolerance. It would just take longer for the batteries to fully recharge.

The engines turned over and soon the faint smell of diesel seeped into the room. It was well-ventilated and the exhaust went directly into the water, but some fumes burned off into the room as the fuel was spent. The meters to each battery flashed on, indicating they were receiving power. She watched as the number on the screen changed from 0 to 1; then 1 to 2; and so on until finally each meter read 5. She flipped on the breaker switch to the generator.

“Ten. Nine. Eight.” Asami counted down quietly, both her eyes and Bolin’s fixed upon the generator.

“Come on, come on,” Bolin urged.

“One.” A soft click reached Asami’s ears, followed by a soft whirring. The battery meters all dropped to 2. Asami listened to the generator as she waited and watched the meters. She took her hand off of the breaker briefly to shake the pins and needles out of her arm. Just then, the numbers turned to 3 – as an intense heat stabbed through her wrist.

“Ah!” She yelped, grabbing her wrist. _Korra._

“Asami?!” Bolin called after the raven-haired woman as she rushed up the steps for the second time that day.

“Just a shock,” she yelled back. “Gonna put something on it! Back in a sec!”

She reached the galley table just as the door to the bedroom slid open to reveal Korra, one arm wrapped around her ribs, the other balled into a fist. Her blue eyes were burning through the engineer as Asami stepped into the galley.

“Where is it,” Korra demanded.

_The magic machine! Is it the generator? But it was on last night and she didn’t feel it._ “You felt it?”

“I _feel_ it,” the shorter woman growled. “Where is it?”

There was rage in the mermaid’s eyes, and Asami was fairly certain that if she let the woman loose in the engine room it would take weeks to repair the damage. “I’m not absolutely sure,” Asami said slowly.

Korra narrowed her eyes. “Liar.”

“I’m not lying,” Asami said, holding up her hands. “I have an idea, but I’m not absolutely sure.”

The mermaid rolled her eyes and started toward the hatch. “Out of my way.”

“No.”

“What’s going on?” The two women looked up to see Mako’s tall frame coming down the stairs from the main cabin.

Asami glanced at Korra. Her jaw was clenched as tight as her fist, her blue eyes burning holes into the engineer. Asami swallowed and looked up at Mako. “Nothing.”

Korra snorted.

The CEO closed her eyes and took a deep breath (before she said something inappropriate to the infuriating mermaid). When she opened them Mako was standing between them, his back to the main stairs as he and the mermaid glared at each other.

“Asami?” Bolin’s head appeared out of the hatch, a worried expression on his face. “You okay?”

“Actually, no.” Asami pointed at the caramel-skinned woman in bandages and too-long fire-ferret pajama pants currently having a staring contest in her galley with a man at least half a foot taller than her. “She and I need to have a word. _In_ _private_.”

“ _We_ ,” Korra retorted, still glaring at the amber-eyed man, “have _nothing_ to talk about.”

Mako’s eyebrows twitched closer together.

“Ooo-kaay,” Bolin said, climbing up out of the hatch and taking hold of his brother’s arm. “You two obviously need some space. We’ll just show ourselves out. Come on, Pabu!”

“Stop pushing me,” Mako protested.

“Let’s go, bro,” Bolin sing-songed.

“But she started it!”

“Let it go-oo.”

When Korra opened her mouth, Asami cleared her throat and lifted a finger. The mermaid raised a chocolate eyebrow and glared at her. They both listened as the trio exited the main cabin. When the cabin door was shut (with a little extra force), Asami dropped her hand.

“Are you insane?! Do you want the entire village to know you’re here?”

“I don’t care-”

“Oh! So you _want_ me to call them back and tell them you’re a mermaid?”

“That’s not-”

“In case I didn’t make it clear when you had a _knife_ to my throat, most humans don’t believe in magic!” Asami waved toward the stairs. “How the hell was I supposed to explain to them why you’re suddenly attacking a generator that we _just_ _finished_ _fixing_?!”

“Ugh!!! I don’t have time for this!” Korra sidestepped Asami, surprising the trained fighter by _jumping_ down the hatch, catching the edge with both hands to swing and break her fall. “ _Fucking seal turtles!_ ”

Asami hissed as fire licked up her wrist, rushing down the steps after the muscular woman. “Are you _trying_ to kill yourself?!”

“I’m trying to _save_ my people,” Korra retorted. She was standing at the end of the generator that connected to the battery bank, her long, thick chocolate hair wildly tousled across her shoulders. Both hands hovered over the section where the magnet-mounted plates whirred softly under the shielded housing.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh.”

Asami arched an eyebrow and folded her arms. Her wrist was still throbbing. Instead of the pain receding as it had earlier, it remained steady. She watched as beads of sweat formed on the mermaid’s face, shoulder and arms. Her arms began to tremble as the burning intensified, her tawny complexion taking on the same ashen shade it had just before she’d puked.

“Korra-”

“Shut up,” the rude woman sing-songed. She took a deep breath and steadied her arms over the generator. Her blue eyes began to glow.

Asami blinked and repositioned herself to see Korra’s face better. The woman’s eyes were indeed _glowing_ (so she hadn’t imagined that last night!) a bright cerulean, still focused on the generator which sounded like it was picking up speed.

The engineer immediately looked to the meters of the battery cells. The numbers were ticking higher, like seconds on a digital clock. 42. 43. 44.

“How did you- Ahh!” Asami gasped as heat shot up her arm at the same time as an arc of electricity hit Korra’s outstretched hand.

The mermaid gritted her teeth, growling through the pain until the arc turned _back_ into the generator. Sweat dripped freely from her chin and elbows, and her glowing eyes were narrowed under furrowed brows. “ _Shut_. _Up_ ,” she huffed between clenched jaws.

Asami rubbed her wrist, feeling more than a little chagrined at almost getting the mermaid electrocuted. That guilt was ameliorated by the evidence in support of her hypothesis that chi or magic and electricity were the same thing – and Korra could control it.

_She must have tapped into the generator last night. When I touched her …. Spirits! It’s a wonder I wasn’t electrocuted! Maybe she protected me? How much power can she handle?_

She tore her eyes off of the sweating figure and was shocked to see the battery meters approaching 80. As the numbers climbed with each second, Asami’s heart started racing. She’d _just_ fixed the generator! And she wasn’t sure what would happen to the battery bank this time. She knew there weren’t any replacements in Port Arakaa; she’d have to special order them at the tool shop.

At 97, the pitch of whirring plates began to drop. She looked over at Korra. The ashen tint was gone, though she still didn’t look particularly well. Her bandages were soaked with sweat, as were all the places the cream-colored cloth of her pants came in contact with her skin. When the sound had dropped to its usual pace, Asami glanced at the battery bank to see all of the meters read 100.

The caramel-skinned woman dropped her arms. She swayed in place before catching her balance, then stumbled the few steps backward to lean against the storage cabinet door. The glow was gone, replaced with tired blue eyes that stared through the generator.

Asami recognized a mind deep in thought, so she said nothing. She perched on a step and waited for the magical creature to speak, idly rubbing her burning tattoo. The pain had lessened, but there was still _pain_. Whatever Korra had done had seriously hurt her.

A sinking feeling began to grow in the engineer’s stomach. Her mind was calculating as she watched the mermaid, and the conclusions it was coming to increased her unease.

The injured woman took a shaky breath and swallowed. “I don’t-” She swallowed again, slightly panting after the effort. She shook her head. “Fucking humans,” Korra whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize -- again -- for missing the Saturday deadline. I would rather it be passably readable than on time. Even so, I'm posting this chapter with trepidation. Between work, family and illness (the body can only handle sleep deprivation for so long), I had a really hard time keeping this chapter clear in my head. Not a lot of revisions this time.
> 
> Again, this is freeform, so I'm not making major changes to what I upload. We're riding this rollercoaster together.


	9. Accepting

_Korra swam between her parents, practically vibrating with excitement. It was her first real Winter Solstice. Every year before, she’d been left in the care of adults who could no longer make the deep dive down to the Source – along with the other calves who were also unable to dive that deep. _

_As the Chief and his mate, each year both of her parents had to leave her behind, sulking on the beach as the rest of the colony disappeared below the surface. Determined not to spend another winter solstice in tears, Korra had begged her mother to start training. Senna had agreed on the condition that she keep up her lessons with Kya and Katara. It had been hard – really hard – but by the tenth month she could join her mother to gather trench clams, diving and ascending with little guidance besides her mother’s watchful eye and an occasional reminder to stay focused._

_She felt her mother’s tailfin brush against her scales, a silent signal to keep up and pay attention to her surroundings. Korra looked around them as the various hues of scales slowly spiraled beneath them toward a bright, white, pulsing sphere of light._

_“The Source,” Korra whispered to herself, enthralled by the glowing orb. She’d been told about it many times – the Source of all Magic, one of the largest physical pieces on the planet, which protected them and their home. She realized with awe that it must be huge, as the merfolk swimming closest to it were considerably smaller._

_She glanced over her shoulders, checking that there were no stragglers behind the trio. It was the Chief’s responsibility to make certain everyone made it safely to the Source as the Shaman led them to honor the spirits. Satisfied no one had been left behind, she looked up to meet her father’s steel blue eyes alight with pride. He gave her a smile and a nod of approval, and her chest swelled as wide as her grin._

_The Chief turned his attention back to the colony, and Korra took the opportunity to scan the crowd of tails for mother-of-pearl scales and long, black hair. She soon spotted the lean youngling swimming alongside her silver-tailed mother. Her stomach did its usual little flip as she stared._

_She felt her own mother’s tailfin again, and she belatedly realized she’d slowed down during her search. Her mother raised a questioning eyebrow over her shoulder, loose kite-tails gently bobbing in the water. Korra sped up, offering a sheepish smile before butting her flushed face into her mother’s shoulder._

_Senna automatically pulled her daughter into her side. Korra sighed contentedly as her mother’s arm protectively cradled her, her nerves and jumbled emotions calming as her heartbeat slowed to match the pace of the pulsing light. It grew larger as they drew closer, and the spiral of merfolk slowly evolved into rings of finned bodies orbiting the large globe._

_And it was large. Huge. Korra’s mouth dropped open as they approached, taking their place in the innermost ring. It was easily three times as wide as her father’s length – and her father was one of the largest mermen in the colony. Seeing its massive size up close paled every description. It was bright, and powerful, and it called her. She wanted to touch it, and she unconsciously drifted toward it before her mother’s gentle arm pulled her back._

_Korra looked up into knowing cerulean eyes, the slight sea green of her sapphires clear in the brilliant light._

_“Not yet, Sweetheart,” Senna murmured._

_Korra pouted. Her head tilted back as someone tugged her high kite-tail. Laughing blue eyes smiled at her upside down, framed by tendrils of greying brown hair. “Hi, Kya.”_

_“Happy Solstice, Korra,” Kya said as she let go of the blue-eyed calf’s hair. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”_

_“Yeah,” Korra nodded, turning her head back toward the Source. “It’s amazing.”_

_“The stories don’t do it justice,” Tonraq marveled. Senna hummed in agreement._

_“Some things you have to experience. Words will never be enough,” Kya said._

_A flash of white and blue caught Korra’s attention. Above the orb swam their shaman and Kya’s mother, Katara, her white kite-skin bag reflecting the bright light beneath her, ice blue eyes sparkling over her weathered smile._

_“Welcome, Family,” Katara greeted, extending her wrinkled hands to each side. “We gather again this Solstice to give thanks for the Source of the Magic, and to honor the spirits who guide us and protect us throughout the year. This year, we also celebrate the first visit of Korra, daughter of Hunter Senna and Chief Tonraq.”_

_The Shaman paused as whistles of varying pitches rippled through the water. Korra felt a gentle squeeze on her shoulder as her father smiled down at her. She smiled back, enjoying the warmth that filled her heart._

_“Come forward, Korra.”_

_Korra took a deep breath and, with a pair of encouraging pats from her parents, she swam up to join Katara above the pulsing light. The elderly mermaid smiled kindly at her._

_“Each Winter Solstice we physically touch the Source, to reconnect to the Magic and gain wisdom from the spirits who choose to cross into our world on this night when the energy is strong and the boundary between our worlds is thin. As this is your first year, Korra, you will be the first to touch the Light. Are you ready?”_

_Korra nodded. She was excited, but also very calm. The light felt warm and comfortable, safe. She wasn’t scared at all as she reached her small bronze hand down toward the living light._

_She gasped as the warmth rushed through her. It was like being cuddled between her parents, or basking in the sun, or laughing with Yuri – only a hundred times better. No; a thousand times better, than all of those wonderful feelings combined._

_Pictures formed in the orb beneath her, of a sky with two moons, then a dazzling meteor shower followed by fiery comets crashing into the ocean. She watched human women diving for shellfish, their legs morphing into tailfins seemingly at will. She watched as merfolk and humans worked alongside spirits in rivers and oceans, maintaining the Balance while providing for their families. Finally, she saw a large white kite with blue markings, its tail long, thin and curly. It reached out with the tip of that tail and touched the middle of Korra’s forehead._

_“Welcome, Korra,” a gentle, sonorous, female voice greeted as an intense, peaceful joy filled the calf down to the tips of her flukes._

***

It had _hurt_.

Magic had _never_ hurt her, but the energy from that- that- _contraption_ had ripped through her, raking her nerves raw like coral on skin.

Earlier, when that all-too-familiar heavy feeling pressed her into the bed, she’d jumped up and rushed out of Asami’s quarters. She’d ignored the pain in her chest, determined to figure out the cause of the magical impedance. Once the other two humans departed, she’d jumped into the engine room (not a wise decision in retrospect) and honed in on what was harming her and her people.

Once she’d identified the origin of the disturbance, she’d tried to manipulate the offending energy with her own chi. It felt like being too shallow and too close during a lightning strike – raw energy flooded into her, threatening to overwhelm as it continued on to its destination. She held her ground, using what magic she could grasp to redirect the energy. It was difficult (especially with Asami harassing her with questions), but she did manage to do it, reducing the affect on her own chi.

Or so she thought.

Once the batteries were charged and the disturbance dissipated, Korra realized her mistake. She could no longer feel the magic within herself. The warm assurance, the faint pulse of life were gone. She was disconnected, as if she were … human. She searched within herself, seeking the faintest spark of light and finding nothing.

Then, to add insult to injury, her eyes fell upon the image that had haunted her for two years.

Korra sank down to the floor, blue eyes never leaving the jagged red rising sun emblazoned on the side of the generator. Every ship, every freighter, every trawler, every navy destroyer she came across she’d scanned the hull for that serrated half circle on its artificial horizon before she lit out for safer waters.

Despite the fact that ships from many nations and corporations had hurt her people, she hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that somehow that emblem was connected. She’d often wondered what she would do if she found it. Follow it to port? Sneak aboard? Beguile some young sailor into divulging its murderous secrets?

An image from Katara’s vision suddenly surfaced – a blood-red setting sun, its smooth edge chipped by black smoke. Visions weren’t easy to interpret, but surely the two symbols were connected?

_“There’s no such thing as coincidence.”_

Every muscle in Korra’s body ached. She felt like she’d been swimming against the current in a typhoon for days. She could hear the human nearby, sitting on the steps, watching her. Sad sapphires finally closed as her heavy head tipped back against the door with a soft thunk.

_Stupid fucking humans._

“Do you have any idea what your kind has done?” Her voice sounded alien to her, distant.

Silence greeted her question. The human shifted her position from the steps to somewhere in front of the exhausted mermaid. Korra sighed and opened her eyes. Emerald eyes stared back at her, lines of worry framing them, long legs folded beneath the slender frame. The mermaid frowned as the human nervously rubbed the rune on her pale wrist. Katara said their connection was “unpredictable”; she wondered what the human was feeling.

A flash of anger was quickly followed by a pang of guilt. Asami had brought that magic sucking death machine back to life. But, Katara seemed to believe that the spirits or the Magic had brought the pair of them together on purpose to _save_ the colony.

A soft sigh drew the stressed creature from her thoughts. “No,” Asami answered. “I’m afraid I don’t. I have no idea what is going on. I’m not even sure we’re speaking the same language at this point.” A white sand shoulder shrugged as she huffed, rolling green eyes. “I’m an engineer; I know physics. Magic is _not_ my area of expertise.”

A soft tapping drew Korra’s attention. Apparently, Asami had heard it, as well. They both looked up at the ceiling, listening carefully. The tapping repeated itself; the same pattern, only louder.

“It can’t be,” Asami murmured, standing up.

“Can’t be what?” Korra asked as she watched the woman climb the steps. “Asami?”

The woman disappeared through the hatch. Korra huffed and winced. She tried to get up from her position on the floor, but her arms and legs shook from the slightest effort. She finally gave up, leaning her head back against the cabinet door and closing her eyes.

Two sets of footsteps crossed the wooden floor above her, one sharp and one soft. The sharp set were Asami’s clipped steps in her heeled boots. Korra opened her eyes and warily eyed the hatch as the soft steps drew closer.

A pair of brown camel yak boots came down the steps, the dark blue hem of a dress or skirt flapping against the calves. A white fur-trimmed blue dress or skirt was layered on top of the dark blue. A familiar pale blue hide and brown tiger seal bag was wrapped around the newcomer’s waist as bronze arms and shoulders descended into view.

“Kya?!” Korra stared open-mouthed at the grey-haired woman as she hurriedly knelt at Korra’s side. “What-? How-?”

“Sh. Mom sent me,” Kya said, hands hurriedly checking her pulse and prying open sapphire eyes. “She mentioned the giant shark squid.”

“I’m fine,” Korra huffed. “I’m just tired.”

“Little wonder,” Kya muttered, hands gently assessing her ribs. “Can you stand?”

“Not by myself,” Korra admitted.

“Asami,” Kya called, turning her head over her shoulder. Korra followed her gaze to see Asami at the foot of the steps, hands worriedly rubbing her arms. “Could you head up first and help me get Korra to the couch?”

“Wouldn’t the bed be more comfortable?” Asami asked, already climbing up the steps.

“She needs to get in the water,” Kya responded. “I want her as close to the door as possible.” Kya knelt on one knee on Korra’s uninjured side, pulling the arm over her shoulder. “Ooof!” Kya grunted as the two rose to their feet. “Forgot how much heavier muscle is on dry land.”

“Kya,” Korra gasped as they made their way to the steps. “Why are you wearing clothes? And what happened to your tail?”

“I’ll explain later,” Kya said. “Let’s just focus on getting you upstairs.”

Korra frowned as she looked up through the hatch to see Asami on one knee. Her stomach did a little flip as emerald eyes bore into her own sapphires. When the woman extended her hand, Korra let go of Kya’s shoulder and grabbed it. They both froze and gasped as a shock of heat rippled through them.

“Asami! Hurry!” Kya yelled.

Asami recovered first, grasping Korra’s arm with both hands. Korra was soon out of the hatch and on her feet, the warm pulse of light from the Source filling her senses. She whimpered as her connection was suddenly severed, and she found herself once again draped across Kya’s shoulder. She turned her head just in time to see Asami’s boots ascending the stairs.

“Come on,” Kya urged, taking a step toward those same stairs.

The younger mermaid nodded. She was still in pain, she was still incredibly tired, but a little of the edge had been taken off. The two water creatures carefully made their way up the stairs as they felt the boat sway as it maneuvered out of its berth.

Kya led her to the couch and helped her sit down. Once seated, she quickly unwrapped the bandages, sucking in air through her teeth as the bruise became visible. “A _table_ did this?”

“I tripped and fell into the corner,” Korra nodded toward the workbench across from the couch. She frowned as she looked down at the ugly purplish greenish colors spread under her skin. “She was going to lance the blood pocket.”

“Human medicine is entirely too invasive,” Kya sighed. “What stopped her?”

“That,” Korra said, wincing as Kya’s gentle fingers pushed a particularly tender spot. “What just happened, when we grabbed hands.”

Kya stopped prodding and stared intently at Korra. “Listen to me carefully. Do not touch Asami until I say so. Understand?”

She frowned, umber eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“Yeah,” Asami chimed from the open doorway of the cockpit. “Why? It helped her heal last night. It overheated my generator and drained my batteries, but it _healed_ her. And this time it didn’t hurt me.”

“It didn’t hurt _you_ ,” Kya said. “But it definitely wasn’t pleasant for _me_.” She helped Korra lie down on the couch in a comfortable position. “We need to get Korra home.”

“NO!” Korra sat up, yelping as she clutched her bruised side. “No,” she gasped. “We can’t. The generator. Drowning.”

Kya’s thin grey eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure?”

Korra nodded. “Very sure. It’s the generator.”

“But, every boat and ship in the South Sea has at least one generator,” Kya said. “It can’t-”

“Not diesel,” Korra interrupted. “Magnets. Made from the Source.”

Kya stared at Korra, a sad comprehension settling into the salt-lines of her eyes. “I see.” She coaxed Korra back onto her side. “Don’t worry. We’re not going to the colony. We’re heading to the Jaws.”

Asami frowned, then nodded sharply and turned back into the cockpit.

“Are you crazy?” Korra hissed at Kya. “It’s summer! They’re moving too fast! She’ll wreck!”

“Trust me. There’s _nothing_ Asami Sato can’t pilot,” Kya smirked. “We’ll be fine. Rest. I’m going to help guide her so we don’t cross any active hunting areas.”

Korra frowned as she watched the older mermaid walk across the cabin and into the cockpit. She couldn’t see them, but she could hear the pair quietly murmuring through the rumbling of the yacht’s engines.

_Asami Sato. Sato._ That name sounded familiar to her, but she couldn’t remember why. She tried to dredge up the memory, but she found it difficult to focus while fighting sleep. She kept waking up from odd snippets of dreams of Mako’s brooding figure with Pabu’s head, chittering excitedly about racing squids through kelp forests.

“Korra?”

The mermaid groaned as a hand squeezed her shoulder. She cracked open heavy eyelids to see pale blue eyes staring at her. “I don’t wanna study now,” Korra whined into her arm, closing her eyes. She groaned again as the hand shook her hard enough to hurt. “Ky-yaaaaaa. Stoooooop.”

“I haven’t formally taught you in years,” Kya chuckled. “You’re on a yacht at the edge of the Jaws, remember?”

Korra frowned and cracked open her eyes again. “You’re wearing clothes.”

Kya frowned back, placing her hand on Korra’s forehead. “You’re way too warm. Come on. We’re going outside.”

Korra allowed Kya to help her to her feet (since when did she have feet?) and she stumbled across the cabin. Kya fumbled a bit with the door, then the cool air of the South Sea hit them as they stepped into the late afternoon sun.

A slender, familiar figure with long black hair and a purple parka was adjusting a low hanging net from the arm of a crane. Green eyes looked up at her and smiled.

“Yuri?”

A confused expression crossed the pale face. “Who?”

“Help me get her stripped and in the hammock,” Kya said, half-carrying Korra toward the net.

Gloved hands helped Kya undress and lower Korra into the woven ropes. She groaned and grimaced as they secured her into the net, her head higher than her feet. Once settled, she closed her eyes and breathed carefully, trying to ease the pain.

“I’ll go in first, make certain there aren’t any predators,” Kya said.

Korra heard an odd shuffling, then the thud of feet followed by a splash. She opened her eyes to see Yuri standing above her, staring worriedly down at her. “Your eyes look weird in this light.”

An inky eyebrow raised in response. “Do they?”

Korra nodded. She reached up a hand to caress the soft cheek, but a gloved hand clasped it instead. She frowned, but she tenderly interlaced her bronze fingers with the grey gloves. “Why are you wearing clothes?”

“It’s cold.”

“Mmm.” Korra nodded, staring into green eyes. “I missed you. So much.”

“All clear!”

Yuri made to move away from Korra. The blue-eyed mermaid panicked, clutching her gloved hand. “No! Please, Yuri! Don’t go! Please!”

“You’re sick, Korra,” Yuri said. Korra closed her eyes as the other gloved hand cupped her warm cheek. “I have to help Kya get you into the water. Okay?”

“Don’t go,” Korra whimpered.

“Shh. It’s okay,” Yuri soothed. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here when you get back. I promise.”

Korra opened her eyes. The afternoon sun shone fully on the sand-colored skin, green eyes bright, black hair falling like a wavy curtain. “Promise?”

“I promise,” Yuri nodded.

“Okay.” Korra reluctantly let go. The green-eyed figure gently patted her hand, then quickly crossed over to a crank arm. Korra closed her eyes as she felt herself lifting into the air, the net swaying as she moved. She heard a few clicks and clanks, and soon she felt hands on her bare legs.

She opened her eyes in confusion. Kya was below her, grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she lowered Korra into the water. She noticed that Kya wasn’t wearing her chest wrap, stretch marks clear along the top and sides of her buoyant breasts as she stretched to reach the ropes.

Korra sighed in relief as she felt the cold water touch her. She closed her eyes and let her head tilt back as the icy water seeped up her long umber locks. She heard Kya humming, the vibrations building in the water. She could feel the spark of magic within herself catch and grow, joining in the harmony with the ice and the water and Kya and the ropes and the boat and … Asami.

The pain was sharp, empty, familiar. She sighed, grateful that there were no tears (this time). She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She clearly remembered calling the human Yuri, begging her not to go. She opened her eyes, staring down at the marks on her wrist.

_The spirits must be crazy,_ Korra thought. _There’s no way this is going to work._

“Kya! We gotta move!”

“Okay! I’ll be up in a second!” Kya met Korra’s eyes. “You’re out of danger, but I’d feel better if Mom took a look at you. Your chi are so muddled.”

Korra nodded. Kya squeezed her shoulder and offered a smile before pulling herself up the metal ladder, her blue-scaled tail morphing to bronze-skinned legs before they were fully out of the water. _How did she do that?!_

“Korra! Hang on!” Asami called above her.

The mermaid felt herself being pulled out of the water, the tip of one fluke uncomfortably wedged in an eye of the net. She stared at her blue scales, both relieved to see them and anxious about if or when they would suddenly disappear again.

With a few disorienting moves, Kya and Asami lowered a healthier Korra back onto the deck of the yacht.

“Mind the fluke,” Korra warned as Asami pulled at the net.

“Oh! Sorry.” Asami helped Korra ease the tip free.

The blue-scaled mermaid promptly hoisted her tail free of the netting, settling her body in the last patch of the dying sun. Sighing with relief, she looked up to see Asami staring at her in open admiration. Korra quickly looked away, her cheeks flushed once again.

“I, uh,” Asami stammered, heading toward the cabin. “I better get us out of here before those icebergs hem us in.”

Both pairs of blue eyes watched the woman disappear. As soon as the motor started, Korra saw a flash of brown and caught a camel yak boot before it hit her in the face. “Hey!”

“Real smooth, Little Warrior.” Kya had already pulled on her calf-length off-the-shoulder wool shift and was wrapping her fur-trimmed dress over it.

“Stop calling me that!” Korra huffed, tossing the boot back. “And how did you change your tail to legs?”

“Easy. I wanted to,” Kya said, sitting down in the patch of sun next to Korra. “Anyone with a good grasp of magic can. Although,” Kya puffed, pulling on her boot, “being half human makes it easier.”

Korra’s blue eyes blinked rapidly in the waning light. “Half human? You’re half human?”

“Yep. Me and my two brothers.”

“You have _brothers_?”

Kya laughed. “A few of the elders remember ‘the scandal’, but no one talks about it anymore. Especially after your father became chief.”

Korra’s father was adamant about keeping them away from humans in order to protect the colony, but he had no patience for malicious gossip and bigoted vitriol. _“Humans are no more our enemy than the weather,”_ Tonraq always said.

“So, Aang was human?”

“Mm-hmm. He was thrown overboard during a storm. Mom saved him.”

“So, he’s still alive?”

“No,” Kya sighed sadly. “He really did die before you were born. Although, he’d lived for years in the United Republic, raising my brothers. They had a hard time keeping their tails, even underwater. And Bumi is always cold. It was just easier for them to live on land in a more temperate climate. We visited them every year, until Mom couldn’t make the journey anymore.”

“Your supply runs,” Korra said. “I didn’t know you’d left the South Sea.”

“Well, we only _swam_ in the South Sea. We took a ship to Air Temple Island.” Kya stood up, shaking out her clothes. “Why don’t we go inside? I’m sure Asami wants to hear these stories just as much as you do. After all, she’s been visiting me and my brother’s family at Air Temple Island for nearly fifteen years. She had no idea we were half merfolk.”

Korra’s mouth fell open as her eyes flew wide. “Fifteen _years_?!”

“And we both need to know more about those magnets,” Kya continued, ignoring her outburst. “If anyone can figure out how to fix this problem, it’s Asami. She is a genius, after all.”

Korra sidled after Kya into the cabin, her mind reeling. Kya was half human. She and Katara had known Asami for years. Asami not only had one of those drowning machines on board her boat, but she was apparently just the person who could also fix them. This woman, whose boat had just randomly crossed paths with her two weeks before, was intimately connected to her colony – her family.

“There’s no such thing as coincidence,” Korra mumbled.

“You’d better believe it,” Kya winked.

“What’s that?” Asami said, stepping out of the cockpit. She focused on Kya, avoiding eye contact with Korra.

“I think we should head back to Port Arakaa for the night,” Kya said.

Asami nodded. “I’ve already set the autopilot.”

“I thought you couldn’t do that without a GPS?” Kya asked.

“The evening stars are already out,” Asami shrugged. “I found my bearing and locked the rudder.”

“Like sailors used to,” Korra commented.

“It’s not perfect, but the weather’s nice. I just need to check it periodically.” Asami sat down on the edge of the couch. “So. What’s this about the generator?”

Korra opened her mouth to speak, and a gurgling growl rumbled from her midsection.

Kya guffawed, wrapping her arms around waist and doubling over. Asami covered her mouth, laughing behind her hand. Korra frowned, staring daggers between the two of them, before she conceded an embarrassed chuckle.

“Tell you what,” Kya sighed, wiping her eyes. “I saw some containers of food on the table. How about I heat up something for us to eat while you two start working out this generator problem? I think seventy-three dead merfolk is enough, don’t you?”

“No green noodles!” Korra called after her. Kya raised a hand in acknowledgement as she headed down the stairs, still chuckling to herself.

Korra rolled her blue eyes before turning to meet Asami’s concerned green gaze.

“‘Seventy-three dead merfolk?’” Asami repeated. “What is she talking about?”

“That’s how many have drowned in the past two years,” Korra answered. “At least, from our colony. We don’t know what’s happening in the North.”

“Drowned? I thought mermaids – sorry, mer- _folk_ – couldn’t drown?”

“We thought that, too,” Korra chuckled sadly. “Until two years ago.” The image of dead, dark green eyes and blue blood streaked across pale skin squeezed the air out of Korra’s lungs. She took a deep, shaky breath, fighting back the tears. “Sorry, I-. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Asami said. She moved to the floor, sitting sideways, carefully placing a gloved hand on top of Korra’s. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Korra shook her head.

The two sat together, saying nothing. Korra sniffled a few times, accompanied by the sounds of Kya humming in the galley as she banged and scraped.

“Did … did Yuri …?” Asami asked quietly.

Korra nodded. “She was the first,” she whispered.

Asami gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She didn’t smile. She didn’t meet Korra’s eyes. “My generator killed her.”

“It was two years ago,” Korra croaked, shaking her head. She cleared her throat. “We weren’t supposed to swim that close to a ship anyway. The ship had the same logo as your generator, though. That jagged half-circle or sun?”

“It’s a gear,” Asami said, removing her hand and pulling both of her knees into her torso. “Well, half of a gear. It’s the logo of Future Industries.”

“Future Industries,” Korra murmured. The name was familiar, but once again she was foggy on the details.

 “How is my generator drowning merfolk?” Asami asked.

“Contrary to myth, we don’t breathe water. We have lungs; not gills. We always breathe air, even when we’re underwater. It’s the Magic. It converts the water to air, somehow, as we breathe,” Korra explained. “The magnets in that generator are made from a special kind of metal that comes from the Source, but it’s out-of-balance. When you apply electricity to it, it seeks magic. It sucks it up like a sponge, drawing the energy from anything within range – including merfolk. Without that magic … we drown.”

“Seventy-three,” Asami sighed, staring at Korra’s blue scales as they reflected both the artificial light and the glow of the coming evening filtering in through the high windows. “Korra, I-” she sighed. “Which metal is it?”

“I don’t know what it’s called. I know what it feels like,” Korra frowned. “That doesn’t help you, does it?”

“No,” Asami smiled ruefully at Korra’s tail. “Those magnets are made out of four metals. And they’re all some shade of silver. If you could draw their atomic structures that might help, but-”

“I can do that.”

“You can see their atomic structures?” Asami queried, finally making eye contact.

“No,” Korra giggled. “I can _feel_ them. I can feel the positive and negative charges, the bonds between the elements. We all know which elements are in the Source – Kya and Katara made sure of that. And there’s only one metal in those magnets that’s from the Source.”

Asami smiled and stood up. She crossed over to the desk and pulled out a pen and a pad of paper from a drawer. She crossed back over to Korra and flipped the cover over before handing both items to her. The green-eyed woman sat down again, her knees pulled into her chest, slender chin propped between them. “So far I’ve figured out that ‘the Magic’ is a form of energy, and it’s affected by electricity. Is it like magnetism?”

“It’s magic. It’s not electricity or magnetism, or even chi. It’s just magic. But, you’re right, it is a form of energy,” Korra said as she began to sketch. “We can use magic to manipulate other forms of energy; we use it to heal, to start fires, to see the flow of the water. I tried to use it snap your harpoon line, but it stretched instead. What is that crap made of?”

“That was you?! I wondered why it was stretching!” Asami exclaimed, emerald eyes wide. “It’s a petrochemical polymer from a by-product of gasoline refinement.”

“That sounds like plastic,” Korra said.

“It is,” Asami smirked. “Incredibly strong, nearly indestructible plastic. And apparently magic-proof.”

“Hardly,” Korra scoffed, turning the pad as she drew another diagram next to the circles of dots. “I was trying to make it look like it snapped under the weight of the tuna, but instead of making the bonds brittle, the energy I applied made them … rearrange?”

“That … makes sense,” Asami nodded. She was sitting next to Korra now, looking over her shoulder as she drew. “Those look like valence orbitals…. And that looks like a hexagonal lattice….”

“Valence orbitals, yes. I have no idea what a hexagonal lattice is,” Korra mumbled as she focused on her sketch. She could picture how each individual cell of the metal aligned with each other to make … itself. When it was alive and full of light (and the metal wasn’t separated from the other elements), it looked completely different, like a spherical tapestry of helical strands.

“Sixty-six,” Asami breathed. “That’s dysprosium!”

“Um, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Those are neodymium/iron/boron/dysprosium magnets. Lightweight; stable in high temperatures; corrosion resistant. Perfect for shipboard generators,” Asami explained. “The dysprosium lines the battery cell to prevent loss of charge from magnetic disturbance. It’s considered a rare-earth element, but it’s an essential part of electric motors, hybrid cars and GPS/WI-FI antennas in Satophones. There are alternatives, but none are as cost effective.”

“You are definitely an engineer,” Korra grinned. A thought bubbled to the surface from her memory, and a sinking feeling pulled the grin from her face. “Wait. Satophones. Satomobiles. Are … are you-?”

Asami set her lips in a firm line, nodding her head. “Asami Sato, daughter of Hiroshi Sato. I _own_ Future Industries.” She swallowed. “I _designed_ that generator. I was trying to develop more green technology, reduce our use of fossil fuels. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Kya and Tenzin and Pema and the kids are the closest thing I have to a family….” The CEO dabbed the tears from her eyes with the back of her gloves. “I _will_ fix this. Whatever it takes. I promise.”

Korra said nothing. She stared, unable to untangle the mess of emotions that strangled her heart, as though a giant shark squid’s tentacles had ambushed her from a dark cave. She was _moored_ to _the_ human who was _responsible_ for her lover’s death. _If this is a part of Raava’s plan, she can fucking count me out._

Asami angled her head until her eyes locked with Korra’s. “Hey. I know you don’t want to hear this,” Asami sighed, “but I know what it means to lose someone you love. My mother was murdered, right in front of me, for my mother’s jewels. A few paltry pieces of colored rock. When they couldn’t pull me from underneath my parents’ bed, they doused my mother’s dead body in gasoline and set her on fire, leaving me to burn in the flames. I was six years old. I’m 22 and I _still_ have nightmares.

“Whatever it is you need to do, do it. Cuss me out. Hit me. Scream. Anyth-”

The mermaid didn’t remember slapping the woman, but she knew she had. The palm of her hand stung, and the woman’s head was turned, one hand pressed into the side of her face. A few tear drops fell to the deck floor as the woman flushed up to her hairline.

Korra felt … sick. Here she was, the human responsible for the deaths of seventy-three of her family and friends. She’d imagined this moment of discovery, only in her mind’s eye it was an obese man in a three-piece suit whose throat she would slit after torturing him by waterboarding. Some cigar-smoking tyrant whose products left miles of the seafloor desecrated and did nothing to remedy the imbalance.

Instead, here was a tortured soul, guilt-ridden by surviving the tragic death of a loved one she could not save. And, now, guilt-ridden by planting that same seed of sorrow in someone else. Intentional or unintentional, she knew Asami would see herself as just as guilty as those murderous thieves, and wonder why she hadn’t died in that fire. Her heart flinched, and she gingerly touched the glove of the hand on Asami’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Korra said. “I shouldn’t have hit you.”

Asami shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I deserved that.”

“No.” Korra tugged at the covered hand, pulling it down until she could hold it firmly between both of her hands. “No. You didn’t. You don’t. You’re _not_ like those men. You were trying to help; you were trying to do something good. It’s as much our fault – you didn’t even know we existed.”

“B-but,” Asami stammered. “Your … I took her away from you. _I_ did that.”

“Yeah,” Korra shrugged. “But if it hadn’t been you or some other human, it would’ve been a bolt of lightning or an engine explosion or being crushed by the pressure in a trench. Yuri was … fearless. A little fear is a good thing; it keeps you alive. We were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t know why she died and I didn’t, but ….” Korra shrugged again, idly stroking her thumb across slender knuckles.

When Korra looked up, her breath caught in her throat. She’d looked into Asami’s eyes before, but this time she was gazing into her soul. There was no veil, no boundary, no apprehension. She was raw and flawed and open and beautiful. Everything in Korra wanted to cradle her in strong arms, shelter her against every storm, protect her from every predator – including the darkness that tore at her spirit.

“Okay!” Kya exclaimed brightly as she came up the stairs. When Asami made to jump back, Korra held her hands fast, maintaining eye contact. “Dinner is served! And we have your favorite, Korra! Steamed spider crab!” The grey-haired woman paused. “I swear I said no touching.”

“We’re not. She’s wearing gloves,” Korra smirked. She smiled a little wider when she saw a spark of mischief in Asami’s eyes.

“Asami,” Kya’s voice sounded suspiciously angry. “What happened to your face?”

“You knew, Kya,” Korra stated. “I drew that logo for you two years ago. You _knew_.”

Asami’s eyes flew wide and she whipped her head toward the older mermaid. “You knew?”

Kya set down the tray between the three of them as she sat cross-legged. “No, I didn’t. I recognized the logo, of course, but I knew Asami wouldn’t ever hurt anyone intentionally. And Future Industries’ ships haven’t been in the South Sea since. I assumed the two weren’t related; and Asami had enough to worry about at the time.” She set up the teacups and poured the tea from the steaming teapot. “Now. Either one of you want to explain why I _shouldn’t_ take Korra over my knee?”

“It’s fine, Kya,” Asami said, smiling back at Korra and affectionately squeezing her fingers before pulling the gloved hand free to accept the offered tea. “She apologized. Besides, I can’t say I really blame her. I’ve been there.”

Kya frowned. “Asami. She had no right-”

“And you had no right to keep that information from me,” Asami stated, her spine erect from the top of her head to the tail of her spine. “You know me, Kya. You know I’m perfectly capable of protecting confidential information. If you had told me about that incident I might have been able to prevent seventy-two unnecessary deaths.”

“I didn’t want to burden you-”

“You thought I was incapable of handling my business,” Asami icily clarified. “Just like the board. And just like everyone else. I was a young adult then, I’m a young adult now. Besides,” she shifted her attention to Korra. “Korra knows I’m perfectly capable of defending myself. She _won’t_ get another free pass.”

Korra gulped her tea, coughing as it burned down her throat. Asami smirked as she glanced down, then a wave of crimson rushed up her face, neck and ears. Korra looked down to see her tail had been replaced once again with a pair of muscular legs. She growled a choice chain of expletives.

“Uncle Sokka would’ve been proud,” Kya smirked, raising her cup to toast Korra’s outburst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay. Super busy with family and work. That is all.


	10. Attraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow.
> 
> Wow. I had no idea this chapter would be so difficult to write. Revision after revision after revision. If I had a beta, I would owe them dinner and my firstborn child.
> 
> And, of course, I STILL don't like it. (Sigh)
> 
> I also don't like it when writers make me wait two months, so here it is. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> (P.S. To certain individuals who do NOT think I'm lame -- Don't get excited by the title of this chapter. This is still PG. I know, I know.... Anticipation, right?)

_“You hate the cold.”_

_Asami studied the pai sho board as her father removed his finger from the tile he’d just played. She was leaving for her vacation in the Southern Water Tribe the next morning. Her bags were packed; her ticket to Harbor City was purchased weeks before; her yacht was waiting, fully stocked for her voyage to Port Arakaa._

_She hated leaving her father for two whole months, but she needed some time for herself. The past three years all of her decisions, all of her actions, all of her thoughts, all of her energy was focused on someone or something else. Her father, her company, her employees, her critics. Last month, when she opened her sketchbook and realized she hadn’t doodled any new design ideas for a year, she knew she was burning out. If she was going to be any good to anyone, she had to recharge._

_“It’s summer there,” Asami shrugged, knuckle and thumb under her chin._

_“Summer in the South is the same temperature as winter in Republic City,” Hiroshi Sato scoffed as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “With ice storms.”_

_“They only had one ice storm in Harbor City last year.” Fifty years before, the capital city of the Southern Water Tribe averaged 10-12 ice storms each summer. The reduction in the beautiful but freezing storms was one of the few “good” side effects of global warming. Granted, fifty degrees Fahrenheit on the hottest day of the year was not her definition of “hot”, but she was going South for the peace and quiet, not the weather._

_“You hate fishing.”_

_“No,” Asami corrected, placing her finger on a tile, then retreating and putting her chin back between knuckle and thumb. “I hate standing knee-deep in muddy water wearing waterproof overalls and surrounded by blood-sucking insects while holding a stick.”_

_“Remember that six-foot catfish?” He sighed wistfully. “I almost felt bad about eating it. Almost.”_

_Asami chuckled. If there was anything her father loved doing more than designing cars, it was fishing. Before his incarceration, every year for his birthday they went on a fishing trip together. She enjoyed ocean fishing more than lake or river fishing, but it was his birthday and he usually preferred to go somewhere with a marshy bank where eel-herons nested and catfish (his favorite) lurked in the murky shallows._

_He also loved eating fried catfish. She was glad that he was sticking to his heart-healthy diet now that he was under constant surveillance. His face was thinner than she ever remembered it being, his massive belly was gone under the green scrubs, and he no longer wheezed. _

_“This is my vacation and I will spend it as I choose.” Asami pushed her tile into place and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. She couldn’t resist a small smirk._

_“By going somewhere you won’t like and doing something you don’t like?” Hiroshi questioned as he studied her move._

_“I’ve never been to the South. I don’t know if I’ll like it or not.”She raised her emerald eyes to the picturesque scene outside of her father’s window. The snowy caps of the mountains shone blue under the winter sun; the distant figure of a plane flew well above the peaks, through the clouds. “Mom always wanted to go. We were talking about an ice-fishing trip. Remember?”_

_“You remember that?” The insane inventor stared at his daughter as if seeing her for the first time. After a few moments, he smiled at her, amber eyes glistening behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “You look so much like your mother. She’d be so proud of you.”_

_Asami smiled. Despite the fact that the hardship of the past three years was completely his fault; despite the fact that he jeopardized both of their lives; despite the fact that he was essentially imprisoned in this high-security (high yuan) asylum; she looked forward to her visits with him. They’d actually had time to talk – really talk – about anything and everything; her mom, his youth, her love life (or, rather, lack thereof)._

_On cue, her father refocused on the game and said, “Maybe you’ll meet a nice Water Tribe man.”_

_“Or woman,” she quipped._

_Hiroshi raised a bushy grey eyebrow, amber eyes still focused on the tiny tiles. “As long as I get grandkids.”_

_“Dad,” Asami chuckled, rolling her green eyes. “I’m 22. I still have a little time.”_

_“Asami. I’m old enough to know how quickly time flies,” he cautioned. “Don’t let the company or my mistakes steal any more of your youth. When love finds you – no matter how inopportune – grab it and FLY.” He reached one hand across the table with his palm up._

_Asami smiled and placed her hand in his, squeezing in return. “I will.”_

_They finally had time to bond as father and daughter, instead of as two gearheads mired in jargon and engine oil. Not that she didn’t love helping him deconstruct an old classic Satomobile designed by her grandfather (the original Hiroshi Sato. Her father had a middle name); but, somehow, being in this place seemed to give them both permission to actually discuss their feelings._

_“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Asami asked._

_Her father sighed as he leaned back and released her hand, pai sho match momentarily forgotten. “I don’t like that you’ll be out of touch for so long. Nature is unforgiving and unpredictable down there.”_

_“I’ve done my research.”_

_“I’m sure you have,” he chuckled. “I know you’re well-prepared; I’d never question that. I just don’t like not being able to help you if something should happen.”_

_“There’s a greater chance of me being in a car wreck than something happening on this trip,” Asami reasoned. “I’ll be fine. The question is: will you be on your best behavior while I’m gone?” She queried, raising an ebony eyebrow._

_Hiroshi snorted and twitched his grey mustachioed upper lip, refocusing on their game. “Of course not. I have to find some way to entertain myself while you’re gone.”_

_Asami sighed. “Just don’t leave. Okay?”_

_“Asami. I signed a court order and I will do my time,” he said. “A Sato keeps their word. I won’t leave.”_

_“Good.”_

_“Although,” he lifted a tile and placed it in the center of the board, ending their game. He met her astonished expression with a definite smirk. “I won’t promise I won’t try to escape. I just won’t actually leave the premises.”_

_“Dad.”_

_“I wonder how long it’ll take them to find me?”_

_“Daad.”_

_“A little hide-and-seek isn’t a violation of my terms,” he huffed. “Besides, they won’t be able to call and bother you about it, anyway.”_

_Asami groaned and leaned her head over the back of her chair, rolling her eyes to the eggshell ceiling. She really, really, needed this vacation._

***

Asami stood at the wheel, guiding her yacht under the millions of stars that peeked through the infinite black of the Southern night. She kept the brightest star of the notch of the mermaid’s tail to the left of the centerline, occasionally double-checking her heading by the compass in her console.

She’d decided to take over piloting the boat while Kya took Korra down below to get clothes (and a few quick lessons in human toiletry and etiquette). Her cheeks still felt warm from the flush of seeing the magnificent mermaid instantly transform into a Water Tribe woman in all of her natural, dark-curled glory. One cheek in particular prickled as she frowned at her dim reflection against the dark in the cockpit windows.

Asami hadn’t been surprised when the brown hand had struck her. She was surprised, however, by just _how_ _hard_ the slap had been. Her cheek was clearly puffy from her reflection, one eye slightly smaller than the other. She knew the mermaid was strong (who could miss those muscles?), but their skirmish the previous night hadn’t been much of a challenge to the well-trained fighter.

_I underestimated her,_ she thought. _When she’s healthy and sure-footed, I bet she’d make a great sparring partner._

Her stomach growled, and she wondered how much longer her guests were going to take. She’d heard the shower turn on no less than three times, and at one point she’d heard a heated, muffled shouting match. Her chambers were well-insulated, so the engineer knew they’d been yelling at top volume. She couldn’t make out the words, but she could guess the topic.

Seventy-three lives. Gone. Because of _her_ design, _her_ company. And the first one to perish just happened to be Korra’s girlfriend (maid-friend? Lover?). And Kya ….

She couldn’t imagine why the older woman would decide not to investigate any and all possible leads. Even if no Future Industries ships had entered Water Tribe territory since then, Kya should’ve asked questions the second she returned to Air Temple Island, secrets be damned.

“She should’ve told me,” Asami seethed. “Two years?!”

The night of the fire, Chief Beifong had personally escorted her to Air Temple Island. When she woke up screaming the first few nights, Kya was there, stroking her hair as she sobbed into the older woman’s chest. With her father in Ba Sing Se and her mother brutally murdered, she’d needed the comfort and security at the time.

But she’d been the CEO of Future Industries for nearly a year when Korra’s … Yuri … died. She would be the first to admit it was a shitty year; but it wasn’t her hardest. She’d already passed that milestone before her age reached two digits.

Voices drifted through the doorway as the pair of mermaids returned to the main cabin. Asami double-checked her bearings, decreased their speed, and rigged the arm of the autopilot so she could rejoin the two for dinner.

“Give me some credit, Kya,” Korra huffed.

The raven-haired woman turned to see Korra framed by the doorway, arms raised, triceps and deltoids flexing as she tied the finishing knot in the blue leather string that secured her high ponytail. Her pigtails were already fixed, loose brown ends brushing against the wide straps of a white tank top. The cloth stretched as her full breasts swayed underneath and the hem rode up to expose lined abs above the waistband of grey drawstring pants. The cuffs were rolled up to prevent her from walking on the long legs of the borrowed pants.

Blue eyes met green, and Korra offered a shy smile as one hand drifted to the back of her neck while the other (unfortunately) tugged the hem of the white top just enough to cover her exposed waist.

“Is this okay?” Korra asked. “There wasn’t much that really fit. You’re a _lot_ longer – I mean, taller – and I’m … well ….” She gestured across her torso as a blush dusted her tawny cheeks.

“It’s fine,” Asami said. She attempted a reassuring smile, but flinched part way.

Chocolate eyebrows furrowed as Korra stepped closer. “Let me see?”

The taller woman stood still, watching as the mermaid examined her swollen cheek. Cinnamon lips pulled down, sapphires darted from side-to-side. A caramel hand lifted, hovered a breath away from the fine, downy hairs under her makeup. Heat emanated from the wide palm and strong fingers, and as it moved, Asami subtly turned her head and tilted her chin, as if the shorter woman was actually touching her.

Her own emerald eyes oscillated between full cinnamon lips and soft sapphire eyes, separated by strong, high cheekbones. Though the cheeks only blushed with a hint of rose under tawny skin, the sclera of blue eyes were thinly veined with fine strands of sangria that reflected blue closer to the iris.

The warm hand hovered; sapphire eyes softly caressed her face from swollen cheek to ruby lips. Asami raised a gloved hand and gently cupped Korra’s face. It was not a conscious or unconscious decision to touch; it was a necessity, a requirement for her heart to keep beating and her lungs to continue filling and expelling air. Brown lids lowered over blue eyes, and an inaudible sigh ghosted down her jacket sleeve and across her wrist as the young mermaid leaned into her palm.

A throat cleared across the room. Too soon, Korra let her hand drop with a heavy sigh, followed by the descent of Asami’s own hand.

“I know,” Korra said, disappointment thick in her tone. “No touching.”

Both women turned to see Kya standing in the doorway with the tray of food and tea. She set it on the low table in front of the bench seats on the co-pilot’s sidewall. “There’s a storm brewing. A big one. I think it’s best if you steer instead of the autopilot, Asami. I want to get back to port as soon as possible.”

The younger mermaid closed her eyes and let her arms fall, stretching and flexing her fingers. “I don’t know if that’s a storm,” she said with a frown.

“It can’t be a solar flare,” Kya said. “There aren’t any southern lights. Asami,” she turned her attention to the raven-haired woman. “What do you want to eat?”

“Squid dumplings, please,” Asami said, undoing the autopilot she’d just set as she glanced at Korra still feeling out the coming storm.

“It just doesn’t feel right,” Korra muttered.

The older mermaid raised a grey eyebrow. “The sooner Mom sees you two, the better.”

Sapphire eyes snapped open. “This boat isn’t going _anywhere_ near the colony,” Korra said sternly. “Not until we figure out how to fight that thing.”

_Easier said than done._ “Katara’s a mermaid, too?”

“She’s our shaman,” Kya smiled proudly as she half-filled a bowl with squid dumplings and a little broth from the spider crab stew. “I help when I can, but Mom is so much better. She really gets into the Source, you know?”

“No. I don’t,” Asami stated.

Kya chuckled, placing the bowl so its base fit into the cup holder at Asami’s side. She stabbed a dumpling with a pair of chopsticks. “I’m sure you have a million questions.”

“Yes. I do,” Asami said, taking one hand off the wheel to quickly pop a dumpling in her mouth and stabbing the chopsticks into a new one. She moaned involuntarily as the spicy mixture burst across her half-starved taste buds. “Mmm. Ah fohgah ah adn ee-ehn thuhday,” she mumbled around her mouthful.

“And you were worried about _my_ manners?” Korra scoffed. Asami glanced over to see Korra pulling half of a spider crab out of the serving bowl and onto a plate, followed by another half, before she grabbed her cup of tea and took a seat in the co-pilot’s chair in-between Kya’s bench and Asami’s captain’s chair.

“I was worried about you trawling all of the food,” Kya deadpanned.

“Hey. I haven’t eaten in two days.” The younger mermaid cracked and stripped the split body and sucked out the orange roe. “Mmm. Aan ah avuhn aad thyduh cwahb in _yeeuhs_ ,” she moaned, also with her mouth full.

Asami chuckled and popped another dumpling. She checked the star and the constellation, then checked the compass. She checked the compass again, and then the compass on the autopilot. Both compasses had the same reading, but it didn’t match their heading. “That’s odd,” she murmured after she swallowed.

“Whuzz ahhd?” Korra asked.

“The compasses are off. Both of them.” She stared hard at the night sky, unable to determine the horizon. She was certain of her constellations, though, having used them before to guide her home from this general direction.

“Welcome to the South Pole,” Kya said as she consumed a piece of tuna steak. “That storm is really shifting the electromagnetic field.”

“Summer storms tend to be pretty wild. Lots of lightning; crazy swells; massive shifts in energy,” Korra explained further, frowning. “They’ve gotten more intense lately.”

Something about her tone drew Asami’s attention. She glanced over at the mermaid as she stared out of the windows at the moon. Her sapphire eyes glimmered. Asami’s heart ached as she remembered how tenderly the mermaid had gazed upon her in a feverish haze of misidentification. It was an odd feeling, an intense mixture of fear and jealousy and desire. When Korra had confirmed that Yuri was dead, that she’d been the first to die because of her generator, the guilt-ridden relief that washed over her made her physically ill.

“Kya, could you pass me my tea?” Asami croaked.

The older mermaid passed it to the younger mermaid, who passed it to the human woman. She smiled sadly in acceptance, guilt keeping her from fully meeting those bright blue eyes. Asami slowly sipped the tea as she held the wheel with her free hand, the warm liquid settling her stomach.

“So,” Kya said, settling on the bench seat until her back was comfortably supported, cup of tea nestled in her palms. “Our first concern is your mooring.”

“Mooring?” Asami echoed, scanning the obsidian waters as well as she could under the moonlight.

“The moon rune. On your wrist?” Kya explained. “It’s a spirit mark. It’s what happens when two spirits inhabit one body. The invading spirit leaves a mark on the host’s body. When two people are moored, their chi merge – briefly – during the process.”

“Moored,” Asami murmured. _Finally._ An explanation of what happened the previous night, when her body felt like it was on fire and she mysteriously knew the injured mermaid’s name – and Korra knew hers. She didn’t know her spirit could leave her body, or that another person’s spirit could possess hers. It didn’t _feel_ like her spirit left her body. Or, rather, not how she _imagined_ that would feel like.

But, she could definitely believe the feisty mermaid’s spirit entered her body. The energy that had coursed through her body was painfully intense – like Korra.

“Temporarily merging two spirits without causing permanent damage to either one is tricky,” Kya continued. “It takes a lot of energy and a lot of focus. That’s why moorings are usually performed by a shaman, in the water, during a full moon. Mom’s never heard of a spontaneous mooring. She’s communing with the Spirits to see if any of them have more information.”

“Communing with the Spirits? The _actual_ Spirits? With a capital S?”

“She _is_ a shaman. That’s pretty much what they do.”

The engineer found herself at a loss. This was way beyond anything to which her analytical mind had been exposed. Despite her time living at the Air Temple and the familial bonds she’d built with Tenzin and his family, she’d put little stock in the belief of actual Spirits since her mother’s murder. She couldn’t understand how fate could orchestrate something so cruel, no matter the “greater good”. It was easier to process it as chance, as the incredibly convoluted collision of the ripples of human choices made over the course of years and lifetimes.

“Katara says our mooring is ‘incomplete’,” Korra said. “She needs to fix it during the full moon.”

Asami watched in amazement as Korra got up to set down her plate of demolished crab shells, grabbed an empty bowl, and filled it with tuna, dumplings and broth. “What does that mean?”

“Korra,” Kya admonished. “Leave _some_ food for the rest of us.”

“But I’m hungry,” the younger blue-eyed mermaid pouted.

“What is an ‘incomplete mooring’?” Asami repeated. “What does that mean? Why does Katara need to fix it?”

Korra sat down with her second giant helping. Asami was surprised to see a pair of chopsticks perfectly balanced between brown fingers. “I’m not sure,” Korra shrugged, deftly seizing three dumplings at once and popping them into her mouth.

“We don’t know for certain what’s happening.” Kya sighed. “I _do_ know that when you touched Korra earlier, I immediately felt my energy draining. I almost dropped her.”

“The same thing happened last night, when Korra grabbed my wrist,” Asami said. “The generator overheated and the battery cells were drained. My Satophone practically melted.”

“Ah! Hah!”

Asami quickly glanced over at the younger mermaid. Korra was frantically waving her hand in front of her mouth, sucking in air in an attempt to cool it. The mixed nation woman barked a laugh before she bit her lip. The blue-eyed woman glared in response.

“Those would be _spicy_ squid dumplings,” Kya smirked. “A common _Fire Nation_ dish.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Korra croaked. She coughed, sipped some tea, and cleared her throat.

“Are you okay?” Asami asked, trying not to chuckle.

Blue eyes rolled in her direction. “Yeah. They’re good. I just wasn’t expecting the heat. It creeps up on you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have shoved three in your mouth at once,” Kya quipped.

“You were saying, _Asami?_ ” Korra said, ignoring the grey-haired woman.

“When we – moored? – it felt like lightning was pouring into me, but it was too much. Like it was filling me up and I would burst or drown in the heat,” Asami recounted. “I thought I was going to pass out, then something broke and the heat flowed out of me. It felt like it left through my thigh, under the pocket that I usually keep my Satophone. My pants were fine; but my phone was fried.”

“Do you feel that energy every time you make skin contact?” Kya asked.

Asami shook her head as she frowned at Kya’s reflection in the window. “I feel energy, but it’s not always the same energy. It’s never been _that_ intense again, but my wrist still burns.”

“Your wrist?” Kya asked.

“Whenever Korra’s in pain, my wrist burns,” Asami answered. “Right under the tat-, I mean, moon rune. Actually,” she furrowed her eyebrows. “It started before the moon rune showed up, when it came in contact with some of Korra’s blood.”

“Korra’s blood?” Kya asked at the same time the younger mermaid said, “Speaking of.” Korra pointed at Asami with a piece of tuna secured in her chopsticks. “How long have you been in Port Arakaa?”

“About two weeks. Why?”

“Every day – _Every. Fucking. Day._ – for the past two weeks, you’ve popped up while I was hunting. I lost some really good prey.”

“Korra,” Kya frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’m a hunter.” The younger mermaid shrugged. “We need food. If I’d said something, we’d all have to hunt in pairs. There’s not enough fish in one area for _two_ hunters. There’s hardly enough for _one_!”

“What if you’d been tagged?” Kya fussed.

“I think I would’ve noticed being _shot_ with a radiotransmitter,” Korra quipped. “Besides, I checked. _And_ sandscrubbed.”

Asami remembered a naked, unsteady, tearful, angry Korra demanding to know _why_ the Republic City native was there. “You thought I was tracking you?”

“I didn’t know what to think. I was driving myself crazy trying to figure out _how_ you kept finding me.” Korra drained the broth from her bowl. “It didn’t even occur to me that the Source was pulling us together.”

The genius pondered that question as she stared past her reflection. It was certainly an odd coincidence; no, not coincidence. The odds of randomly finding the same mermaid for 15 consecutive days within 1,000 sq. miles of the South Sea were astronomical. And that was _before_ she’d touched the blood. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Kya chimed in from her perch on the bench seat. “You were _feeling_ instead of _thinking_. The Source led you to Korra.”

_Feeling_. That concept kept coming up. Kya felt the coming storm; Korra felt atomic structures; She felt Korra’s pain. “But, why?”

“Magic has its own rules,” Kya shrugged. “We don’t always know the reason until after the season has passed.”

“I wish I’d known the magic was calling me two weeks ago,” Asami lamented. “I’m due back in Republic City in three weeks. That’s not a lot of time to figure out a reasonable solution to the dysprosium problem.”

“We might not have three weeks,” Korra said, placing her empty bowl on the tray. She settled back into the co-pilot’s chair with her bare feet tucked underneath her, muscular arms folded underneath her breasts. “The full moon is in three nights. Who knows what could happen?”

“Three nights? I thought it was five?”

“Technically, Asami, you’re right,” Kya conceded. “But we can feel the energy shift a night or two before and after the actual full moon. With any luck, there’ll be enough energy in three nights for Mom to complete the mooring. _If_ that’s your choice, of course.”

“What other choice do I have?” She noted the exchange of glances between the two mermaids in their mirrored images. They both seemed worried; worried, and guilty.

Korra was the first to speak, one hand drifting to the back of her neck in what Asami now knew to be a nervous habit. “Moorings are … special … to merfolk. Not all mated pairs moor, but … moored pairs are always … mates.”

“Kind of like the difference between modern dating and marriage,” Kya added. “In an Earth Kingdom you-can-only-marry-once-in-a-lifetime kind of way.”

Asami turned her head fully to face them. Her heart was pounding in her ears as understanding seeped into her blood, initiating yet another rush of adrenaline and anxiety. Married. She was spiritually married. To a _mermaid_. She hadn’t even been on a _date_ in two years, and she was _married_.

She had nothing against marriage. She’d always thought she’d get married _someday_ – she just thought she’d be able to choose her spouse. And the date. And the location. And the actual _marriage_.

A range of emotions rampaged through her in a matter of seconds. Most of them the engineer processed with little trouble, like shock and disbelief. Her enraged fury at the Spirits for manipulating her life _without her permission_ was momentarily surprising, but she quickly realized that resentment had been festering since she was six-years-old (she’d learned something from all of those years of therapy).

The two emotions that surprised her logical brain the most was her fear and her … hope? A tiny, tiny whisper of hope that the Spirits had indeed led her to the love of her life; and an equally tiny but heart-stopping fear that she might lose this angry, flawed, beautifully human enigma that was Korra.

The raven-haired woman took a deep breath. She closed her emerald eyes, counted backwards from five, and exhaled slowly. She inhaled deeply again and only re-opened her eyes when her breathing had returned to normal. The pounding in her ears had diminished; Kya was watching her intently, grey eyebrows furrowed; Korra was staring at the floor intently, brown arms wrapped protectively around her white-clothed midsection.

“What happens if I choose _not_ to complete the mooring?” The CEO asked quietly. It hurt to see Korra curl a little more into herself, but she never signed a contract without reading it first (Hiroshi had drilled that lesson into her early).

Kya glanced over at the younger mermaid before answering. “It takes a _massive_ amount of magic to break a mooring. The last time that happened was centuries ago. I think Mom can do it, but it requires skin contact with the Source. And, it’s about 700 feet deep.”

“700 _feet_?”

“Give or take. Sea levels change.”

Asami frowned as she turned her attention back to piloting the boat, surprised that even her practiced hands had held them true. She knew some Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom women could free-dive without oxygen 60-70 feet, and she knew the world record for free-diving (with oxygen tanks and in a wetsuit) was about 1,000 feet – but Asami knew those women had been diving for shellfish since they were little girls; she didn’t have the experience or the equipment to survive a 700-foot dive. “If I break the connection, I’ll die.”

“Yes,” Kya admitted. She heard Korra inhale, as if she’d been holding her breath.

“What if we do nothing?” Asami asked. “Just … leave things as they are?”

“It’s imbalanced,” Kya said, shaking her head. “Eventually, the scales will tip; and one of you will spiritually consume the other.”

The CEO noticed the subtle glance of concern in Korra’s direction. “If I do nothing, one of us will die.”

“Yes,” Kya sighed softly.

Somehow, the green-eyed woman knew it would be the beautiful, blue-eyed mermaid who would die – self-sacrificed in a vain attempt to prevent tragedy from repeating itself. She watched as Korra quietly wiped a lone tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.

_No. No one else is going to die for me or because of me. Korra is not going to die. I won’t let that happen._

“And if _we_ complete the mooring?”

Korra looked up, watery blue eyes shy and unsure – so unlike her usual brash self. _She loved Yuri. This must be just as unsettling for her as it is for me._

“I won’t do this if you don’t want to,” Asami said softly, never wavering from the young mermaid’s hesitant gaze. “I know you don’t like humans; I can’t say I blame you. Especially as I’m the one personally responsible for killing 73 merfolk. If you don’t want to do this, I’ll make the dive.”

“Asami, you can’t-” Kya interjected. Asami held up her hand, cutting the older woman off.

“It’s my decision, Kya,” Asami declared. “My only caveat is that we wait until I can fix the dysprosium issue.”

“You’d do that?” Korra asked quietly. “After everything I’ve said? Everything I’ve done?”

“Like I said; I get it,” Asami smiled ruefully, one eye wincing. “Besides, there are worse things than marrying a beautiful mermaid. Or, rather, validating my existing marriage to said beautiful mermaid.”

Korra smiled. It wasn’t a joyous smile, but it was genuine, and happy in its own relieved-but-scared-shitless kind of way. It gave Asami some confidence – in herself, and in their future.

“Okay,” Korra nodded, her voice firm. “Let’s do this.”

 Asami turned her attention back to the bright star of the mermaid’s tail, surprised that she’d managed to hold the wheel fairly steady. She pursed her ruby lips and increased the throttle as the orange lights of the docks came into view, eyebrows furrowed, hands firm as she guided them to shelter from the coming storm.

“‘Endure the darkness, for it shows the stars’,” Kya murmured, smiling at Asami’s reflection. Asami smiled back (at least, as well as she could with her swollen cheek).

“Right,” Asami said. “So. How _do_ you plan for a mermaid wedding?”

Korra laughed. The reflection of her easy, lopsided grin soothed the tightness in Asami’s chest. “You have any blue leather?”

***

Slate-blue eyes stared at the satellite feed as the grey and white boat sped away. Its heading never wavered, never turned toward the shards of ice just yards from its port side as it fled the edge of the jaws. Obviously, the pilot of the boat was not using its compass to guide it, or it would’ve succumbed like all of the others.

“Should we follow, sir?”

The tall man rolled back his broad shoulders under his blue uniform. He considered the question of the voice that emanated from the speaker without ever taking his eyes off of the screen. A boat had not been seen in these waters for months, and now, so close, _this_ boat shows up.

_What are you up to?_ He knew his adversary well enough not to assume the boat was unarmed. They could not afford to draw attention; not yet. It was tempting to pursue, to drag its owner down into the labyrinth and extract every iota of knowledge from that brilliant mind. He knew it wasn’t coincidence; there was no such thing.

Still….

“No,” he finally replied. “Maintain usual surveillance.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Turning on his heel, the Commander headed toward the door, ignoring the salutes of the soldiers he passed. He stood in front of the elevator, holding still as the camera scanned a bright green light across his open eyes. The door slid open and he entered. Once the doors closed, he produced a key from his pocket. He inserted it and turned it to the left, and the familiar feeling of descent began. He could feel the cold and the change in pressure, and his skin prickled with the desire to glow. He denied himself this urge and waited for the elevator to reach its destination.

Once arrived, he turned the key, removed it, and pocketed it safely once again before pressing the button to open the doors. As soon as they slid open, the muffled sounds of screams and moans rang in his ears. These soldiers had not survived, had not adapted. They had been promising conscripts, but time was the true measure of the mettle of the minds under his command.

 He stepped into the corridor and strode to the command room. He paused once again as a camera scanned his eye before the door opened. As expected, the Lieutenant was standing at the command desk, eyes scanning each monitor behind prescription goggles.

They’d almost rejected the Lieutenant. He lost his name, his past, his identity in the purification process. The only thing he knew about himself was the rank on his sleeve. He was emotionless; calm; precise. He followed every command a senior officer gave him directly, instantly, without hesitation. It was useful to have an animal like the Lieutenant under his control – especially as the Commander was the highest ranking officer in the complex.

“Lieutenant.” He waited until the goggled man turned, bowed, and stood at attention, thin lips set in a stern line between two long, inky black pencil mustaches. “I have a special project for you.”

“It shall be done,” the Lieutenant bowed again. “Commander Noatak.”


	11. Falling

_“You’d do that? After everything I’ve said? Everything I’ve done?”_

_“Like I said; I get it.”_

***

Korra stared past their reflections into the moonlit night. The stars looked down upon them, their familiar patterns cold and distant. Behind her, Kya explained their traditions to Asami, who seemed to have three more questions for each one Kya answered. She’d quickly dropped out of the conversation, lost in her thoughts as she sat curled up in the co-pilot’s chair.

She didn’t get it. She was relieved that the human woman had agreed to complete their mooring without any protest (she wasn’t a fan of having her life force sucked out of her), but Asami’s composure made no sense to her. If it were Korra, she’d’ve still been ripping apart every fixture and piece of furniture on the boat.

It wasn’t _fair_. She’d had no intention of _mooring_ with anyone. She’d barely been able to _breathe_ when she’d grabbed the slender, pale (surprisingly strong) wrist. Now, they had to “choose” between certain death or dubious survival. And their survival required merging their chi forever to a complete stranger. They’d had no “ _choice_ ”.

Even if the fateful arrangement benefitted her people, it still made the young mermaid _angry_. Their mooring shouldn’t even be necessary. Asami wanted to make the world a better place with her machines, not kill anyone. And she didn’t want to be moored to the human responsible for killing her people, unintentionally or not. Sure, Asami was incredibly kind; and smart; and strong; and beautiful. But, Asami was still a _human_ , and she was still a _mermaid_ – and the next chief of the Southern Oasis.

If there was a Southern Oasis left to lead.

And if – _if_ – the human managed to fix the generators and save the colony, what happened after that? Asami owned an international corporation and lived in Republic City. Would they live in two different hemispheres and only reconnect for a few weeks each year, like Katara and Aang? The mermaid’s heart sank at the thought. It may have been the best situation for the shaman, but she didn’t want to live that way. She wasn’t sure what or how she felt about Asami, and she wasn’t sure how much of that feeling was influenced by their imbalanced mooring.

She closed her eyes as she remembered the tender press of a gloved hand against her cheek. She was drawn to the human, and the feeling was clearly mutual. _But is it real? Is it enough?_

Silence roused Korra from her thoughts. She blinked tired blue eyes against the indoor lights and glanced up at Asami (who was staring at her. Again), then craned her neck as she scanned the room. Kya was absent, and the human was no longer piloting the boat. “We’re already docked?”

“Mmhm,” Asami answered, stretching her arms overhead. Korra couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the ridiculous parka the human wore (in _summer_ ). It barely shifted over the exaggerated movement. “Kya just moored us.” The woman stiffened as a flush crept up her long neck at her choice of words. “She’s going into the village to visit a friend of hers and get you some clothes.”

The mermaid glanced down at the white top and grey pants she was wearing. Granted, they weren’t the best fit, but she only wore them for Asami’s benefit. Oddly enough, the way the too small top stretched across her breasts made her feel … exposed. She’d rather not wear any clothes at all – but the human seemed to be uncomfortable when she was naked (and she found it difficult to resist the call in those wide, green eyes). Still, Kya didn’t need to find better fitting clothes when she would only need them until the morning. “Why?”

“Well,” Asami sighed and leaned against the console, one slender gloved hand (how is she not _suffocating_ under all those layers?!) supporting her weight. “I can’t swim all the way to your colony, and it’s too risky to take the yacht until we figure out how to fix the generator. So, we’ll have to find other means of travel; which means you will have to leave the boat and possibly be seen by other humans.”

“Ugh,” Korra groaned. She’d forgotten about the logistics of getting both herself _and_ the human close enough to the Source for Katara to complete the mooring. She unwound herself from her position in the co-pilot’s seat, stood up, and promptly lost her balance as a disturbing sensation of numbness followed by raw stinging pain and heaviness coursed through her feet and legs.

“Agh!” she cried as Asami caught her. Wide sapphires stared up into uneven emeralds for a few seconds before the mermaid blinked and reset her feet under leaden, wobbly legs. She kept her grip on Asami’s sleeves as she grimaced at her foreign limbs. “They _hurt_.”

“They probably fell asleep,” Asami chuckled. “It happens when you sit on your legs or feet for too long. The pins-and-needles sensation will go away after a while.”

“ _Stupid_ legs,” Korra muttered, shaking them a bit, the odd heavy stinging persisting. The mermaid looked up from the offending appendages and considered the human for a few seconds as they stood in each other’s arms. “Why aren’t you mad?”

Asami blinked. “Pardon?”

“I’d be _pissed_. I _am_ pissed,” Korra said, umber eyebrows furrowed. “I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong, but….”

She watched as the taller woman pulled her ruby lower lip between straight, white teeth, eyes focused on some distant point over her head. The mermaid’s stomach flipped when those green eyes met hers again with sincere intensity.

“I am pissed,” Asami admitted. “But I’ve learned to pick my battles and find more effective channels for my anger than yelling and breaking things.”

The dark-skinned woman snorted. “I’m still learning that lesson.” Her current predicament (and a lost spear) were testaments to her lack of restraint.

“Obviously,” Asami smirked.

_Cheeky_ , Korra thought, shooting the taller woman a glaring pout. “Still,” Korra sighed. “It isn’t fair.”

It was Asami’s turn to snort in derision. “Life never is,” she chuckled darkly.

“I’m serious. This isn’t right,” Korra shook her head, kite-tails swinging. “This isn’t how we do things. We don’t arrange or force moorings. For the Spirits to-.” She abruptly stopped, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she reopened them, she focused her gaze somewhere around Asami’s shoulder, unable to bear those green orbs. “None of this should’ve happened,” she whispered.

“Hey.” Asami stooped down a bit and angled her head so she could meet the mermaid’s eyes, much to Korra’s dismay. “Shoulda-woulda-coulda never solves anything. We can’t change the past. We have to deal with what’s happening, right now, so we can have a better future. Okay?”

Korra stared up into green eyes, her throat burning and her chest tight with suppressed sobs. She was so tired of crying, so tired of hurting, so tired of feeling so empty – so _lonely_. And Asami was so _warm_ ….

She shoved off from the human and stumbled back a few steps, landing unceremoniously in the co-pilot’s chair with an undignified “oof!”. She gripped the arms of the chair as she tried to regain her composure, taking deep, slow breaths as Katara had taught her. When Asami called her name, she raised an index finger in response. The onyx-haired woman sat down on the floor in front of her and waited, chin resting on slim knees, long arms wrapped around knee-high heeled boots.

When tears no longer threatened to overwhelm her, Korra licked her dry lips. “Sorry,” she whispered to her fated companion. “I-I just….” She trailed off and shrugged, staring at her still tingling toes.

“If our lives weren’t in jeopardy,” Asami asked quietly, “would you choose to moor with me?”

Korra shook her head. “No.” She cleared her throat. “Would you?”

Her pale chin wiggled side-to-side as the woman shook her head against her knees. “No.”

The pair stared at each other in silence. The taller woman seemed younger, more vulnerable, curled up in this odd fetal position. Locks of her thick, black hair had worked their way out of her loose kite-tail. They curled in contrast against her skin, swirls of pitch on sun-bleached shell. The light, at this angle, deepened the tone of her emerald eyes, the yellow hue hidden underneath shadows. Asami seemed fragile, but Korra knew iron ran through the woman.

“You don’t want to moor with me because I look like Yuri.”

“What? No! I mean,” Korra stammered, shocked by the woman’s statement. “You do remind me of her, but that’s not….” She trailed off again in an exasperated sigh. Truthfully, if the woman _didn’t_ remind her of Yuri she wouldn’t be as willing to participate in this ludicrous scenario. Somehow she doubted the pale-skinned woman would appreciate that. “I don’t _know_ you.”

Ruby lips pouted in thought as she nodded solemnly. “Okay. So, let’s get to know each other.”

“Okaaay,” Korra drawled. They might as well make the best out of a bad situation. “What do you want to know?”

“I already know your name, and your favorite food,” Asami mused out loud. “Favorite color?”

“Cerulean.”

The woman raised both obsidian eyebrows. “That’s … specific.”

Korra shrugged. “We spend most of our time in the ocean. There are lots of shades of blue and green. Besides, it’s the color of my eyes. And my mom’s.”

“I would’ve said sapphire,” Asami said, staring into Korra’s eyes.

“Sapphires can be cerulean,” Korra said. “They come in a range of blues; like emeralds can be yellowish green.”

Asami smiled and ducked her head briefly. It was a cute gesture. “Kya mentioned your father is the chief?”

 “Yep. And my mom is the second-best hunter in the colony. After me.” Korra smirked. The smile of the woman on the floor faded, a distant shadow briefly crossing her features. The young mermaid frowned in sympathy. “I’m sorry about your mom.”

“It’s not your fault,” Asami sighed, shaking her head. “Any questions for me?”

Now that she was thinking about it, she couldn’t think of any questions for the human. She had a decent understanding of Asami’s character (she hoped). She knew Asami was strong and intelligent, and didn’t like the cold. She was 22 years old. She wasn’t a mermaid, so questions about her hunting skills and preferences of swimming depths, styles and weather conditions were pointless. Her favorite color was either lavender or mauve, if the shades of purple of her parka and eyeshadow were any indication. _Well, which one?_ “Umm … favorite color?”

“Alexandrite.”

“That’s not a color,” Korra chuckled. _Of course she picked a gemstone; and a gemstone with two colors, no less._ “Daylight or firelight?”

A mischievous sparkle lit deep green eyes, and the young mermaid’s heart skipped a beat. “Both.”

“Figures.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes, a wry smile tugging one side of her mouth. This woman definitely reminded her of Yuri, and not just physically. There was a hunger in the human, too; a stretching for more. Flashes of memories rushed to the surface, and Korra struggled to suppress the flush she felt blossoming from behind her breastbone. Several questions suddenly presented themselves, but in everything she’d read about and by humans they weren’t considered questions for “polite conversation”. But, Asami had ogled her several times in the past two days (has it really only been _two days_?!). And surely she had a right to know, seeing as they were already (sort of) moored.

Her hand reached behind her head, and she shifted her gaze to the wooden floorboards of the polished deck. “Umm … soooo … have you mated often?”

Korra looked up to see bright red painting the older woman’s face, and green eyes shifting back and forth from the mermaid’s questioning gaze to some point on the floor.

“I-I, umm,” Asami stammered. “Do you mean the actual … or the number of partners?”

Umber eyebrows shot up and she extended both hands in front of her, pushing back an invisible wall of mortification. “Partners! Not – no.” She took a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips. “I meant … have you been with other … females? Or are you just … curious?”

“Oh!” Green eyes met blue with a sigh of relief. “Yes. I’ve had female partners. And male. I’m bisexual.”

“Oh.” Twisting heat stabbed through Korra’s chest, and she frowned at the intensity of it. She clearly recognized the emotion as jealousy, but she wasn’t in a position to stake such claims on the older woman – especially over past relationships. At least, she assumed they were past relationships. Of course, she’d felt the same way about both of Yuri’s previous lovers, but she was a youngling at the time; it’d never been an issue while they were together.

“Is … something wrong?”

“Huh?” Korra blinked and refocused on the concerned, frowning face in front of her. “Oh. No. I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“Okay,” Asami acquiesced with some hesitation. “What about you? Have you … been with anyone since…?”

Korra shook her head, the loose tips of her lower kite-tails tickled her collarbone and she absently reached up to scratch the itch. “No. Yuri is – was – my only….” She trailed off as she thought about all of ways the green-eyed, opal-scaled mermaid was her first and only.

Emerald eyes glimmered even from her seat on the floor under the dim artificial light. She looked askance and heaved a sigh, hugging long legs even tighter to her layered torso. Onyx eyebrows knit together, and a muscle twitched under an errant wisp of hair beside her ear. “Maybe … maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

“Asami,” Korra sighed. “We don’t have a choice.”

The generator hummed quietly beneath them. A bell rang in the distance as the boat rocked. Korra watched a tear slip from the corner of a green eye, dark with emotion. She leaned forward, reached out with sure fingers, and gently brushed the tear from a swollen ivory cheek with her thumb as her fingers grazed the smooth skin of the side of a long neck.

A warmth spread up the blue-eyed mermaid’s hand that quickly infused her entire body. She unconsciously exhaled in relief as the weariness and pain of the past two days ebbed out of her body with each beat of Asami’s pulse. Half-lidded blue eyes trailed from the pale neck to upturned green eyes, still shimmering with unshed tears.

Korra slid out of the chair and kneeled beside Asami. The moonlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the constellations within wet, dark lashes. Ivory skin glowed like fresh, fallen snow under the ethereal light. She inhaled the heady scent of perfume and sweat, the same scent that had filled her nose as she convalesced in the onyx-haired woman’s bed. The mermaid leaned forward, rapid puffs of warm air ghosting across her cheek as her lips sought the heat of blood red steaming soft….

Soft. _So_ soft. So _warm_. Her eyes closed as her hand slipped from cheek to neck to winding within soft swirls of ink as she pressed into the warmth beneath her lips. Her other hand came to rest on a firm, clothed limb – be it hand or knee, she wasn’t certain – as warm breath caressed her cheek in short, shaky bursts. She leaned further in, tightening her grip in Asami’s hair. A gasping whine rewarded her, and she moaned softly in response.

Lips shifted, parted beneath her own. She moaned again at the sensation, as the sensitive flesh brushed and caressed against one another. The warmth filled her, went through her, lit her darkest, loneliest crags. She pressed further into it, determined not to let it escape – and found herself flailing as she lost her balance.

“Whoa!” She caught herself, one hand on the deck and the other on Asami’s leg. The startled human had grabbed hold of her, both hands pressed into her back. They stared at each other for a few seconds, both panting and flushed.

“Umm,” Asami broke the silence. “Could you … move your hand?”

Confused, Korra cocked an eyebrow as she looked down to see the heel of her hand firmly pressed into the firm bony flesh of the human’s pelvis, her fingers wrapping into the heat between long legs. She remembered clearly the sensation produced by her own hand pressing in that exact spot between her legs.

“OhmyRaavaI’msosorry!” Korra exclaimed, jerking her hand back and pushing out of Asami’s embrace.

Asami let go and leaned back on her elbows, lips pulled into a twisted pout, her shoulders shaking as her eyes twinkled.

Korra frowned. “Are you laughing?”

Asami shook her head, loose black hair rustling across her shoulders, which were shaking even harder.

“You _are_!”

The older woman snorted and clapped a hand over her mouth, still shaking her head as she dissolved into a fit of belly-blasting guffaws. Korra glared in offense, at first, but soon found herself on the hard floor next to the green-eyed beauty, both of them flushed and breathless, stomachs aching and voices hoarse, faces streaked with salt lines and fresh tears.

“Ohhhhh,” Asami sighed, trying to regain her composure. “I have to pee.”

That started another fit of giggles, not as long or as hard as the first, but enough to send the woman scrambling for the stairs as the mermaid curled up in cackles. The fit finally passed, and Korra flopped onto her back, arms outspread. _Maybe this will work._ She took a deep breath and exhaled just as she heard the door to the main cabin open.

“Asami?! Korra?!”

She jumped up in alarm and rushed to the doorway of the cockpit. Kya stood in front of the now closed cabin door, a worried expression drawing her grey eyebrows together and a rucksack on her back. She couldn’t see any signs of blood or injury on the older mermaid. “What’s wrong?! What happened?!”

“You didn’t see that light?”

“What light?” Korra frowned.

Asami rushed up the stairs, feet light despite being clad in boots. “What happened? Is everything alright?”

Kya looked between the two of them. “Neither of you saw that light?”

The two younger women exchanged bewildered glances. “No,” Asami answered, shaking her head.

The older woman folded her arms and drew herself up to her full height. She raised a grey eyebrow. “What have you two been up to?”

Kya’s warning not to touch each other until she gave the okay suddenly popped back into Korra’s head. She glanced at Asami, who glanced back at her, the blush on her face and her wide eyes revealing that she’d just remembered as well.

“We were just, you know, talking,” Korra stammered.

“Just talking, hmm?”

“Welllll, umm.” Korra looked over at Asami, who nodded with a gentle smile and placed a gloved hand on her shoulder.

“We kissed,” Asami stated. “We know you said not to touch, but….”

“I couldn’t help myself,” Korra admitted. “Asami was crying and … I just … I forgot, Kya. I’m sorry.”

Kya pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “I leave you alone for a few minutes,” she muttered. “Like a couple of rabaroos.”

“Nothing happened!” Korra exclaimed at the same time as Asami retorted, “It was just one kiss, Kya!”

“What part of ‘unpredictable’ do you two _not_ understand?” Kya scolded. “You could’ve hurt each other. You could’ve _killed_ each other! I’m borrowing clothes to hide _your_ identity,” she jabbed a finger at the younger blue-eyed woman, “while you two decide to set off a light show in _your_ yacht!” She jabbed the same finger at the green-eyed woman. “It’s a wonder half of Port Arakaa isn’t on the deck right now!”

“Kya,” Asami said. “Did your friend see the light?”

“Ohhh, you bet he did,” Kya huffed.

“I don’t understand,” Korra said. “We didn’t see any light.” She was fairly preoccupied during that kiss, and she had her eyes closed, but she was certain that if the light was bright enough to see from the village then she would’ve seen it, too. “It couldn’t have been that bright if we didn’t see it.”

“Korra’s eyes weren’t glowing like they were last night,” Asami added. “And the generator’s still running. Last time it overheated and cracked a gear.”

Kya’s mouth was open in mid-retort when her expression changed, twisting from an indignant outrage to a questioning … fear? Awe? She closed her mouth and stared at the younger mermaid. Korra took a step back as the older mermaid approached her, holding still with apprehension as the woman quickly examined each of her chi points with tender desperation.

“You’re fine,” she said. “You’re healed.”

“Umm,” Korra’s hand gravitated to the back of her neck. “Yeah. I felt this … incredible warmth. I can’t really describe it.”

“Me, too,” Asami said, folding her arms. “It felt a lot better than the first time. I think my Satophone interrupted the flow of chi. Or is it Source?”

“And I wasn’t as badly hurt,” Korra added. “Maybe that’s why the generator didn’t blow?”

“I think that had more to do with the mooring,” Asami mused, eyebrows furrowed. “Either way, I would’ve heard from one of the other boat owners long before you showed up, Kya.”

Korra chuckled to herself. They must’ve lain on the floor laughing for half-an-hour, at least. At least, it felt that long. She looked up to see light blue eyes staring at her. “What?”

“You,” Kya ordered, pointing at the younger mermaid, “are sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Wha-?” Korra huffed. She took a deep breath and sighed roughly. She knew full well there was no way she could sleep in the same bed with  Asami, but she’d didn’t think they couldn’t sleep in the same _cabin_.

“Nonsense, Kya,” Asami said. “You and Korra can sleep in my bed, and I’ll sleep in the recliner, like I did last night. No arguments.” Asami said, holding up her hand to stave off both Korra and Kya’s protests. “This is my yacht and I am the captain of this vessel. My word is final. Is that clear?”

_Yes, ma’am_. Korra nodded, holding her grin to a respectable smile.

Kya rolled her eyes. “Fine. Let’s clean up and get ready for tomorrow. We have a hard day of sailing ahead of us.” She picked up the rucksack and heaved it at Korra, who caught it easily despite the tip of something hard jabbing her in the rib, causing her to wince. “Kuruk’s little sloop is older than he is.”

“Kuruk?!” The two younger women stared at Kya’s retreating back disappear into the cockpit before looking at each other.

“How do _you_ know Kuruk?”

“I know _of_ Kuruk,” Korra corrected. “It’s the responsibility of some merfolk to scout the port occasionally, listen in on what’s happening.”

“Makes sense,” Asami said. Emeralds met sapphires, and Korra’s heart skipped a beat as a gloved hand squeezed her bicep. “Korra? About earlier.”

“Yeah?” Korra swallowed the lump that suddenly formed in her throat.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said, smiling warmly. “My wrist _finally_ stopped burning.”

Korra blinked. She’d forgotten that Asami could feel her pain. “I really didn’t mean to do that. To kiss you,” she said quietly. “But, as soon as I touched you I-”

Another squeeze of her arm interrupted her explanation. “I know, Korra. I feel it, too. We’ll just have to be more careful until we figure all of this out.”

The young mermaid nodded in response, unable to voice an agreement. The truth was, she didn’t want to be more careful. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed such warmth and intimacy until the moment she’d brushed her lips against those plump, ruby reds. Asami was addictive, and Korra wanted more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uploaded this without any other eyes looking it over, so if you see something that needs correction please let me know.


	12. Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the warnings for this chapter's events. It's not gory, but just in case....

Asami sat on top of her folded parka on the floor of the engine room. Her fingers idly twirled her pen while a notepad balanced on top of her crossed legs. A bony elbow dug into her thigh as her hand cradled her chin, emerald eyes focused on the generator humming directly across the room. She sat in the same spot where Korra had nearly collapsed earlier that day.

It was hard to believe that moment occurred less than 12 hours prior to their kiss. Emerald eyes fluttered closed as Asami reminisced. She’d _never_ been kissed like that before – reverently, worshipped, cherished. Korra’s breath in her ears, strong fingers gently tugging her hair, moans vibrating against her closed lips; it was, hands down, the best kiss she’d ever experienced.

It terrified her. The heat coursing through her body as Korra caressed her cheek; the intensity of those dark, half-lidded sapphires; it wasn’t normal. While her body had sung when their lips connected, her mind had screamed: _What are you  doing?!_ _This isn’t right! You killed her lover! She just slapped the shit out of you!_

The woman who’d hated her (with good reason) had kissed her so lovingly…. It was ridiculous; a farce, like the plot of one of Varrick’s “B” movers. Fortunately, the boat had rocked just as Korra had leaned into the kiss and Asami was shifting to push her off. The unexpected jarring caused her to instead wrap her arms around the sturdy torso above her in her attempt to maintain balance.

_Balance_. She glanced down at her pen-hand and the black markings on her wrist. Kya had explained the moon rune, that not all moored pairs were marked by the spirits. She’d listened to the grey-haired woman, but the engineer still found it difficult to believe that a _spirit_ had entered her body.

( _“It’s … unusual … for a spirit to enter a human,” Kya mused._

_Asami glanced over at Korra, who was obviously no longer paying attention to the conversation. “Why is that?”_

_“Spirits are energy in its purest form; they don’t have physical bodies to hinder them,” Kya said. “There are usually side-effects when they enter a human’s body. Serious side effects.”_

_“How serious?”_

_“Mutation. Insanity. Even death.” Kya smiled at her. “Of course, if anyone can defy the odds, it’s you.”_ )

A twinge in her hip caused her to shift, and she opened her eyes as the notepad slipped into the valley between her legs. She recalled the mortified expression on Korra’s face when the blue-eyed woman realized where her hand had landed. The transition from seducer to supplicant was comical, even more so considering their circumstances. Murderous machines; magical marriages; _moon tattoos_?! Her entire world had been upended (again) in less than 48 hours. She hadn’t meant to laugh at the mermaid, but it was either succumb to a fit of laughter or shatter into a fit of hysterics.

She sighed as she stared at the metal machine at the crux of her predicament. Having a nervous breakdown wasn’t an option. Seventy-three living, breathing people had died, and she needed to figure out how to prevent any more from suffering the same fate – and fast.

She readjusted the notepad with her pen-hand, glancing briefly at the notes she’d jotted upon it. Supplies for tomorrow’s sailing expedition and possibly a week’s stay on a remote volcanic island; three calculations of the amount of electrical energy Korra’d redirected (the second and third calculations to check the incredulous results of the first); notes on electrochemical pathways in humans; possible solutions for correcting the generator’s electromagnetic interference that were _all_ crossed out; more questions for the mermaid with _cerulean_ eyes.

In the middle of the page, circled and in all caps, were the words: TOO MANY. There were too many generators on the market, too many products utilizing dysprosium that could pose similar dangers in the near future. Focusing her attention on all of those products was a waste of time. So, she switched her focus from the cause to the effect. The merfolk needed something they could carry or wear, something to disrupt or cancel the effects of the electromagnetic field without disrupting their connection to the Source.

She tapped the pen against the pad, paused, then planted her chin back in her hand and resumed absently twirling as her mind wandered. The more she thought about it, the more she needed to know about the Source. What is it made of? How does it work? Where did it come from? Why does it affect merfolk more than humans? These questions and more adorned the edges of the notepad balanced in her lap.

While they’d cleaned up the remnants of dinner, Kya had described the light she’d seen. Which, honestly, wasn’t much of a description. Kya said it was brief, so the older woman didn’t have a chance to really study it; it was bright, and white, and only lasted a few seconds – but she was certain it came from _within_ the yacht.

The genius didn’t doubt her former caretaker. She also had a sneaking suspicion that the reason she and Korra didn’t see it is because they’d _caused_ it, somehow. She felt like she’d been filled with light, very similar to the feeling she’d had when Korra had grabbed her wrist the previous night (only without the pain). Still warm, still intense – just not stuck-a-screwdriver-in-a-wall-socket intense.

And the cool _relief_ in her wrist as Korra healed was a pleasure all its own. Her own cheek was still swollen; probably because she was human and not able to manipulate magic. Even so, she was glad of her reprieve from the incessant burning. She turned over her pen-hand to once again study the markings on her inner wrist. They were unchanged, the ink shifting unremarkably over her tendons as she twisted to catch the light from different angles. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she stared.

The attraction – the magnetism – was undeniable. _Why? Why are we so drawn to one another?_

A sound from above caught her attention, and she turned her head in her chin to look up sideways at the steps. A blue skirt was descending and Asami watched as Kya made her way down the steps. The older woman took a couple of steps closer then leaned against the wall.

“I figured you’d be down here,” Kya said.

Asami hummed in acknowledgement and turned her head to stare at the side of the generator. The red half-gear of the Future Industries logo glared back at her. “I wish I could see what you two see,” Asami mumbled, her chin hampered against her hand.

“It’s not seeing, it’s feeling,” Kya corrected. “And many humans can feel the energy of the Source. Maybe you just need a little practice.”

“How do I practice ‘feeling’ magic?” Asami raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” Kya’s blue eyes trailed to the wall in thought. “It’s a lot like meditation. As you focus on your breathing, you become aware of how your breath stirs the air around you. In time, you begin to feel the flow of energy within and around yourself, how everything and everyone interacts.”

“I’ve been sitting here for more than an hour and all I feel is my backside going numb,” the heiress sighed. She sat up straight and stretched her arms above her head.

“In all fairness, I don’t feel anything unusual coming from the generator,” Kya said. “From what Korra told me, I should’ve felt it when I first arrived.”

Ruby lips frowned at that new information. “She was doing … something. With her hands,” Asami recalled, roughly mimicking the younger mermaid’s earlier pose. “Maybe she was shielding it? Or maybe it’s because she’s a full-blooded mermaid?”

“Hmm,” Kya mused noncommittally, pursing her lips. A yawn suddenly stretched her mouth wide, exposing every tooth in her head. “Oh! Excuse me,” she chuckled. “I don’t think my brain can process any more theories tonight. Why don’t you come upstairs and get some sleep? I’ll definitely need your help sailing tomorrow. Korra’s useless on a boat.”

“I heard that,” a voice drifted from above.

Asami giggled quietly with Kya as she stood up, parka, notepad and pen in hand. She followed the grey-haired woman out of the engine room to see Korra leaning against the galley sink, wavy brown hair unbound, frowning at a glass of water. The raven-haired woman placed her items on the galley table before turning her back to the mermaids to lower the hatch back in place.

“I thought you were going to sleep?” Kya inquired behind her.

“I was, but I’m thirsty,” Korra complained. “And this tastes … weird.”

“Did you add salt?” Kya inquired behind her.

“Yeah,” Korra answered. “I did exactly what you showed me, but it still tastes weird.”

“Well, it’s not going to taste _exactly_ like sea water, is it?” Kya scolded.

“It should taste better than _this_ ,” Korra huffed. Asami turned around just in time to see her chug the contents of the glass, her head tilting back, brown strands slipping off her defined deltoids. She briefly imagined running her fingers through those thick locks before giving herself a stern mental shake.

“I’m going to take a quick shower before bed,” Asami announced.

“It’s all yours,” Kya sighed. Korra waved with one hand while her other hand was clenched in a fist against her sternum, beautiful brown face twisted in a grimace.

Asami smiled to herself as she slid the door closed to her quarters to give herself a little privacy. She leaned her forehead against the frame for a moment, taking a few slow, deep breaths. “What a day,” she whispered.

After a minute or so, she crossed over to the recliner, the pillow and blanket already prepped with her pajamas folded on top of the pillow. Kya was nowhere near as neat and motherly as Pema, but it was still a nice, thoughtful touch after a trying day. She grabbed the flannel clothing and a pair of underwear and socks out of her drawer then entered the head, locking the sliding door behind her.

She turned on the hot water and flipped the switch on the exhaust fan, which sent her dancing across the cramped space to relieve herself (as usual). After flushing and washing her hands, she brushed her teeth as the water warmed in the shower. Once finished with her oral hygiene, she tested the temperature with one hand, turned the cold knob just a bit, tied up her hair in a messy top knot, and stepped into the shower.

Asami moaned softly as the hot water eased the tension in her muscles. She wished she had time to let the pulsating water work into her stressed trapezius muscles, but she’d have to postpone that particular pleasure for now. Instead, she quickly soaped and rinsed, careful to keep her hair out of the stream of water as much as possible.

Her mind drifted as she showered. She wondered which spirit had entered her body (well, their bodies) and left its mark. Or, perhaps, there were two spirits? She definitely remembered how painful the experience had been, but she had managed to avoid the expected “side effects” without planning or preparation. _That could be what happened to my phone,_ she mused. _Perhaps it took the brunt of the interaction and spared me._

Despite the steam that had quickly built up in the tiny space, Asami was chilled when she stepped out of the glass closet, elbows and toes dripping on the washable mat. She quickly dried, moisturized, and dressed, the cold air and chilling thoughts preventing her from sweating as the moist air was vented into the Southern night. She examined her bare face; her lips still tinted from her signature (expensive) stain, one eye still squinting from a swollen cheek, the tiny ghost of a scar on her chin from rolling that test car when she was 15.

When she stepped out of the head, she found the door of her quarters cracked open and the bedside battery lamp beside Kya softly lighting the room. A soft snore sounded from the sprawled supine form of the younger mermaid, one arm resting on the pillow above wild brown tresses; the torso of the older mermaid slowly rose and fell in rhythm between her bedmate and the recliner.

The heiress chuckled to herself as she made her way to her side of the room. She turned off the light and settled underneath her blanket, amazed at how quickly the pair of mermaids had fallen asleep. Her emerald eyes closed the moment her head hit the pillow, and three sets of exhausted snores filled the quiet, gently rocking boat.

It seemed only a few seconds later Asami was opening her eyes. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but there was no sunlight seeping through the portal windows. However, a strange blue light filled the space. It took the genius a few seconds to realize that the light was coming from the pair of alert mermaids sitting up on their respective sides of the bed. Literally, as in the light was emanating from their _skin_.

Shocked, Asami stared as the pair crept toward the sliding door in unison, each taking position on either side, listening carefully. Korra snorted in annoyance about something, glancing down at the shell belt around her waist. She signaled to Kya, and the older woman followed her into the galley.

Shaking herself out of her stupor, the yacht owner quickly slipped out of her makeshift bed and socks, and crossed the cold floorboards barefoot. She paused at the doorway of her quarters to grab one of her strategically concealed stun batons, hidden in the frame. Asami didn’t know what had alarmed her guests, but considering the events of the past two days she wasn’t about to take any chances.

She crossed the galley and crept up the steps, ears straining as she made her way to the main cabin. Asami took her position beside the workbench, concealed behind a shallow wall extension as Kya and Korra once again flanked the door. A soft click echoed in the quiet as the deadbolt unlocked. The engineer raised an eyebrow as the security chain slid in its track, then jumped out of it, dangling against the door frame. Whoever was breaking into her boat was clearly a professional with high-powered magnets. _Or,_ she thought, narrowing her eyes, _someone with excellent control of magic_.

The door cracked open to reveal … no one. There was only night sky beyond the partially open door, nothing but stars and shadows.

_Shadows_. Asami furrowed her eyebrows as she realized that something _was_ in the doorway; something that cast the shadow of a tall, thin, broad-shouldered figure. She tightened her grip on her stun baton and pressed herself closer to the wall out of the intruder’s line of vision, increasing the intensity of the stun to maximum voltage. Whoever he or she was, they were either wearing something that cloaked them, or they could cloak themselves like a reptile. She cursed silently, trying to figure out how best to approach the situation.

When the invisible figure crossed the threshold, Kya moved first – a slashing motion that clearly landed when a flickering shimmer defined the shape and position of the intruder. Soon, the shadow-casting figure was parrying blows from two pairs of fists and elbows and Kya’s dagger. The trained martial artist admired how quickly Korra was adjusting to her new appendages, but she could tell that two mermaids were outmatched.

Kya knew it, too, and was doing her best to disable the cloaking device before the attacker disabled them both. A lucky strike sunk her blade into flesh, and the flickering shimmer quickly spread from the bleeding wound to reveal a masked man with long, thin pencil moustaches and night-vision goggles pulling a pair of stun batons from the holsters on his back.

Asami leapt from her hiding place as the two dark-skinned women dropped to the floor, the crackle of electricity sounding through the cabin. Three strikes and a heel-kick evened the odds, one of the attacker’s batons clattering to the floor. He swung down, aiming for her head; she blocked the blow with her own baton and blocked his kick with her free forearm before striking with the heel of her hand under his chin.

He stumbled back, and she pressed forward; he was stronger, but she was faster and held home-turf advantage. If she could keep him off balance she could jolt him just like – an opening! Asami drove her baton into his rotator cuff and smirked as it crackled on contact. She cried out, startled, as she was backhanded across her already bruised cheek.

Scrambling back, she narrowed her eyes as the goggled man advanced. She knew she’d turned the voltage to max, knew it should have incapacitated _ten_ men his size. He hadn’t even flinched. _He_ smirked this time, twirling his remaining baton in one hand before striking. She parried the blows, her speed and spatial awareness keeping her from being shocked, his strength keeping her from striking his vital points.

Trading blows was not going to win this fight, especially as she noticed that he wasn’t even _sweating_ despite wearing a full uniform (which she didn’t recognize). She had to disarm him; grappling was risky (especially if he disarmed her first), but she needed to try _before_ she got winded. She stepped in and swung at his arm, which he blocked with his baton. She immediately grabbed his wrist, attempting to press into his thumb and twist, but he wriggled out of her grasp and swung, attempting his own grab, out of which her slender wrist easily slipped.

Swing, block, grab, twist. Swing, block, grab, twist. The two grappled and danced, gradually increasing speed, each looking for an opening. A movement in her periphery gave him the distraction he needed to send her baton flying across the room. She ducked the crackling blow and jumped back just as a pair of brown arms snaked around his thin neck.

Asami surged forward and grabbed the wrist of the baton-wielding hand, twisting as she pulled down and drove her knee up into his elbow. His elbow dislocated, the goggled man dropped his remaining weapon. Korra held his head back, driving the sharp edge of her forearm into the man’s windpipe, using her other hand and her body weight to increase the pressure. After a few choking splutters, the man glowed a sickly green before he lost consciousness.

The young, dark-skinned woman continued to hold pressure for a few seconds longer before she released their attacker, letting his body fall unceremoniously to the floor. Sapphires met emeralds.

“You okay?” Korra panted, chest heaving under her white tank top, chocolate hair tousled about caramel shoulders, bangs skimming cerulean eyes.

“Yeah,” Asami nodded, flipping her sweaty black hair over her shoulder. “Who is he?”

“No idea,” Korra said, staring down at the unconscious man.

“He glowed,” Asami panted. “Like you.”

“I know,” Korra frowned.

Kya groaned softly as she stirred where she fell near the door. She sat up, holding her head. “Please tell me you kicked his ass.”

“Thanks to you,” Asami said, crossing over to help the grey-haired woman stand up. “There’s no way I could’ve kept up with him if he was still cloaked.” She hugged Kya tightly.

“Hey! I’m the one who actually took him out,” Korra pouted, thumb pointing toward her chest. “Don’t I get a ‘thank you’?”

“No touching,” Kya deadpanned. Korra folded her arms and blew her bangs out of her eyes.

“Thank you, Korra.” Asami smiled and turned toward the cockpit. “Do you know him, Kya?”

“No,” Kya answered. “I’m not even sure he’s really a merman.”

“What do you mean?” Asami opened the drawer of the side bench by the captain’s chair and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “He wasn’t using magic?”

“He was,” Kya responded, hesitant. “But he feels … unnatural, if that makes any sense.”

“Yeah,” Korra answered.

“No,” Asami answered, striding over to the still unconscious form. Korra rolled him over on his stomach while Asami placed the cuffs, then they both rolled him over on his side. “But that would explain why shocking him didn’t work.”

“We should tie him to the chair,” Korra said, jerking her chin and moving to lift the man off the floor. Asami crouched down to help. “I have some twine down be-”

It happened so fast that Asami barely registered the chain of events. As they lifted him up to place him in her workbench chair, a blinding green light flashed, metal pinged, and a searing pain shot through the heiress’s abdomen.

“NO!” Korra shouted as Kya yelled, “Look out!” She barely registered the unmistakable crunch of a broken nose as Korra’s elbow connected with her assailant’s face. As she fell, she found herself wrapped in those same strong arms, struggling to keep her thoughts clear as pounding footsteps retreated.

“Asami? Asami. Look at me.”

She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision as sapphires swam before her.

“Stay with me, okay?” Korra’s voice was rough, raspy.

“Korra.” Her voice sounded so far away. Asami tried to clear her throat as a hand pressed on top of hers. She looked down to see red. So much red, seeping between pale fingers. Her fingers. She shivered, overcome with cold.

“Asami?” Korra called as shadow seeped into the remaining light. “ASAMI!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Is it really Saturday?!!! I'm excited!!!!!!
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience, kudos, and comments. Y'all are awesome.
> 
> This chapter took a turn I wasn't expecting, so the outline I had in my head was just ripped to shreds. But, I think it might actually work. We'll see.
> 
> Again, if you see anything that needs correction, please let me know! Thanks!


	13. Stars and Observations

It wasn’t until Korra felt the shift that it finally clicked. The energy from the intruder was so familiar, but it wasn’t quite the same as hers or any other merperson’s she’d ever met. Unfortunately, she’d figured out why a second too late.

Hunting electric kite was relatively easy. They ate shellfish and were a favorite food of tiger sharks, so they preferred to stick close to the ocean floor. They could control the color of every cell of their skin, camouflaging perfectly against their surroundings. It was easy to spot them when they moved though, sand clouding at the edges of their wide, fluttering fins. Aside from the cloaking, their main defense was the shock they delivered – which was unpleasant, but not deadly. All you had to do was spear one through the middle, just aside of the spine, pinning it to ground so it couldn’t swim away.

And avoid the tail spur.

Being such a vulnerable predator, electric kite had developed several forms of defense. It was _very_ good at playing dead. Its heart even stopped beating – until you picked it up. Then, it would deliver a potent pulse of electricity while simultaneously stabbing you with the spur in its tail – a spur that would rip out of its attacker, the tiny barbs splintering off and delivering a paralyzing venom even as the wound bled into the water.

She’d never been stabbed by one, but she’d seen its effects on less cautious hunters. Painful, but temporary; the afflicted limb useless for about half a day. She’d only seen one merman die from an electric kite wound – an incredibly unlucky strike through the heart. The only way to avoid the tail spur was to pick it up from behind; you never, ever, pick up _any_ kite from the front.

The intruder with the weird green goggles and stringy moustache had to be some sort of mer-kite-man – and Asami had been in front of him when they picked him up.

The shock he’d delivered was more light than power – still enough to distract from the real danger. He’d easily snapped the metal chain between the handcuffs and produced a long, serrated spur from his wrist. By the time she’d screamed it was too late. The spur had already done its damage. Asami’s coral-tinted lips had parted in shock, pale hands pressed together over her stomach.

Enraged, Korra had swung her elbow into the mer-kite-man’s face. It had been satisfying to hear the crunch, feel the bone and cartilage crumple against her joint. He’d spun away, slipped, then sprinted for the open doorway; Asami obviously being his intended target all along. Kya had given chase as she’d caught the pale human woman, emerald eyes already beginning to glass over.

Those bright green eyes fluttered closed as she shook in Korra’s arms. Reflexively, Korra placed her hand on top of Asami’s, disturbed by how cold the fingers felt beneath her palm. A weak pulse of their erratic connection flowed through her, a dim ember compared to their kiss.

“Asami?” The pale woman’s body went slack in her arms. “ASAMI!”

Korra’s heart dropped, and tears sprang from her eyes as she set her jaw. _No. Not again. Never again._ She shifted the slender woman, cradling her closer. She wasn’t a shaman; she’d never drawn from the Source without water or light (and never to heal anyone but _herself_ ), but Katara was in the colony and Kya was chasing that murderous sack of squid shit and she could feel that Asami was running out of time. She took a deep breath and pressed her own bronze hand directly against the bleeding wound.

As soon as her skin came into contact with the bright red blood, heat burned through Korra’s wrist, as if she’d stuck it directly into a volcanic vent. She growled through clenched teeth, focusing on her breathing as she pushed through the pain. She could feel the heart beating, slowing; the blood weakly pulsing through the vessels; the pool from which the life-giving fluid seeped out of the pale woman’s body. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she knew she had to find it to save Asami, hoped she’d know it when she felt it.

“ _Please,_ Raava _,_ ” she begged softly. “Help me.”

On cue, a tiny speck of blue glittered in Asami’s limp wrist. Another sparkled in her cheek; several dusted across her lips. Korra watched in awe as constellations of tiny blue stars burst into life throughout the flannel-clad body in her arms. A warm, soothing, familiar voice she couldn’t hear whispered within her. She recognized the stars; recognized _herself_.

She focused on those tiny blue sparks. The energy quivered around her in the cabin, the currents slowing then stilling then redirecting at her will. Her skin and eyes glowed bright blue, the stars within Asami glowing with her – brighter and brighter until the blue suddenly blazed white and the Source flowed into both of them through her, through her bloody palm and into the cold, weak body of the precious soul in her arms.

The light flowed into Asami, coursing through her chi paths, connecting the bright sparks within a web of frost. Korra was shaking, sweating, but she refused to stop. The pain in her wrist clawed underneath her glowing skin like fresh obsidian, the jagged volcanic glass threatening to erupt through her flesh. She narrowed her glowing eyes. _Just … a little … more…._

Suddenly, the web flashed brighter, shifted from white to a beautifully intense iridescent purplish-green, and then receded into the unconscious woman’s body. The scalding heat in her wrist cooled to a mild fever. As the light faded, Korra noticed a ribbon of silver extending from her wrist to Asami’s, connecting their matching moon runes.

 A pale forehead wrinkled, obsidian eyebrows twitching as long matching eyelashes fluttered. Emerald eyes opened, sleepy but clear. “Korra?”

The mermaid sagged in relief, releasing her control of the energy surrounding them. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Asami echoed, a tired smile tugging at the corners of her tinted lips. “You were glowing again.”

“Yeah,” Korra chuckled. She glanced down at Asami’s stomach. The blood was gone; no stains, no sign of the attack save for the tear in the scratchy fabric. Her hand itched to be in contact with the smooth skin just beneath it. Though the light had faded, the silver ribbon remained, bright and calm. “How do you feel?”

“Like a camel-yak kicked me in the stomach,” Asami groaned, attempting to sit up on her own.

“Easy.” Korra moved her hand to the woman’s sternum, gently pushing her back into cradle of her arms and bent legs. “I don’t want you puking on me.”

Asami chuckled, wincing. “If I do, _you’re_ cleaning up this time.”

“Duly noted,” the mermaid laughed. She looked over at the side of the workbench where she’d collapsed the previous night. Her umber eyebrows furrowed. “Say, have you seen my knife?”

“No.” Emerald eyes squinted in the same direction. “You dropped it, then … I put the bucket and mop away … I meant to pick it up.” She frowned and looked back up at Korra. “Kya had a knife.”

“That’s hers,” Korra said, shaking her head. “I didn’t realize mine was missing until I reached for it.”

Asami hummed in reply, the vibration trembling through her sternum and trilling up Korra’s arm. Korra felt her face warm as she looked down, suddenly acutely aware of how her pinky finger and thumb curved and lifted against the gentle swell of unbound cleavage. She felt the fabric shift over the rise and fall of each breath, the increasing tempo of beating heart. Blue eyes followed the lines of bronze fingers to where blush tips rested within hair’s width of alabaster skin. She swallowed, raised her eyes past blushing cheeks to sparkling green eyes. Her mouth parted, trembled as an apology fell silent.

“We seem to keep finding ourselves in these compromising positions, don’t we?” Asami said.

“Y-yeah,” Korra stammered. She lifted her hand, foundered for a moment as she struggled to find an appropriate place to settle the offending appendage. She finally rested it on a flannel-clad elbow, the silver ribbon gently flowing through the process. “Do you see that?”

“See what?”

“The ribbon. Connecting our wrists.”

The human woman shifted a bit to see better. “No,” she frowned. “What does it look like?”

“Silver. Bright silver,” Korra described. “Like moonlight on the water’s surface.”

“No,” Asami whispered. “I wish I could. It sounds beautiful.”

“It is,” Korra murmured, looking back up into gorgeous green eyes. “Beautiful.”

An odd clicking noise sounded from across the cabin. Asami’s eyes widened as they focused on the doorway in front of her, her body tensing, increasing the heat in the mermaid’s wrist. Korra tensed also as she quickly turned to face it, Asami’s response clearly indicating a threat.

Though she was glad the mer-kite-man hadn’t returned, she wasn’t thrilled to see an old man in the doorway, pointing a rifle at the pair of them. His stance was solid and his arms were steady despite his advanced years. Blue eyes narrowed as he spoke.

“Hands in duh er, reeeal slow,” he growled. “Both uh ya.”

***

**EARLIER**

“You’re just jealous, bro.”

Mako narrowed his amber eyes as he ladled stew into a wooden bowl. The dinner rush was more of a steady trickle – a steady trickle that, this evening, had started an hour early. The catch wasn’t good, as usual, but someone had spotted three United Forces navy destroyers to the west. They were required by international law to cruise below a certain speed; at that sight, the people of Port Arakaa could expect fresh supplies by morning. The brothers returned to the inn to find all the seats at the bar filled and Kuruk immediately barking orders at them from the open top-half of the kitchen door.

Once the brothers had settled in to their roles, Kuruk took residence at his table by the fire and Mako latched both halves of the kitchen door so the brothers could talk in the kitchen without being overheard. Every time they were both in the kitchen, they discussed Asami and her “friend”, Korra.

Or, rather, Mako discussed what trouble Asami may be in, while Bolin teased him about missing his opportunity with the beautiful heiress. The older brother had shared his suspicion that the two women were _not_ in a relationship. There was definitely a “tension” between the two, but that suggested to Mako that they’d never hooked up (at least, not yet. There was a _lot_ of tension between those two).

“I’m not jealous,” the older brother replied, sliding a pair of chopsticks between a dead spider crab’s claw. He paused as Bolin cranked out some fresh seaweed noodles and deposited them into the boiling water on the stove. “They’re hiding something. I’m certain Asami didn’t have that tattoo last night.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bolin smirked over his shoulder as he gently separated the green strands so they wouldn’t clump. “Then why was she pulling at her sleeves all night? Hmm?”

Mako frowned. Bolin was right; Asami was very fidgety last night. He’d thought it was because of the horseshoe crab blood. He knew how weird it was to see the bright greenish-blue blood for the first time. He had the great misfortune of witnessing two fishermen bludgeon to death a live giant Southern horseshoe crab – on its back – the first month they’d arrived. It took him days to get the image out of his head.

Still, he was certain he’d seen enough of her wrists to notice that tattoo. “I don’t know. But I’m sure she didn’t have that tattoo,” he said as Bolin dolled the steaming green noodles into the waiting bowl of spider crab stew.

The older brother slowly backed through the swinging kitchen door after a quick glance through the small glass window. He nodded at familiar faces and offered quick greetings and goodbyes as he hurried to the table of Old Lady Fia and her butt-pinching widow-friends, Aaju and Ilta. He set the bowl on Fia’s deaf side and quickly backed away from the table before his presence roused them from their intense gossip session.

“Paajuk said she was hiding something. _That’s_ why the UF are back so soon!”

 “She’s making some kinda secret weapon. Has to be.”

 “Crazy. Just like her father!”

Mako rolled his eyes as he passed back through the crowd, taking two mugs for hot chocolate refills before he passed his brother leaving the bar with one mug of hot chocolate and two mugs of ice-cold dark ale for Kuruk and his current pai-sho opponent. He’d filled the two mugs and tapped another keg of ale by the time Bolin returned to the kitchen.

“Maybe she was debating whether or not to get it.” His little brother picked up the conversation where they’d left off. “Eloping is a pretty big deal.”

“They’re _not_ together. We need more hot chocolate.”

“On it!” Bolin dropped the dirty mugs and dishes into the soapy sink water.

Mako eased through the door and delivered his two mugs, then returned to the bar to refill three mugs of pale ale, two mugs of dark. Nasauna came through the door with her twin brother, Nassaaq. The curvy, toned, peacock-blue-eyed woman caught Mako’s eye and waved, and he nodded back with a grim smile.

The Southern Water Tribe was more gender-equal than most of the nations, but it was in the small “backwoods” villages like Port Arakaa that you truly saw it. The women here were just as strong, just as proud, just as aggressive, and just as independent as any of the men in any nation on the planet. Nasauna had been a tough lesson, and the former triad was still trying to come to terms with how he felt.

She hadn’t been dishonest; she hadn’t led him on; she was up front about just “seeing how things go”. When she’d canceled their plans because an “old friend” of hers had just come into port with the United Forces Navy, he’d been upset. When he’d discovered they’d spent the night together in the inn, he’d felt betrayed. When Nasauna had asked him to explain why he’d felt so angry, he couldn’t. She lived with her family; non-uniformed personnel weren’t allowed on the ship; where else were they going to go? She was, technically, single. They all were. And she was most certainly a consenting adult. She just happened to like this navy-guy a little more than Mako.

It wasn’t anything Mako hadn’t done himself to various girls in Republic City. It was a chauvinistic double-standard, he knew. But it still bothered him.

He re-entered the kitchen to pour two hot ciders for the twins just as his little brother was sprinkling his “secret ingredient” into a second porcelain pot.

“Hey! No peeking!”

Mako rolled his amber eyes. “It’s brown powder, Bo. It literally could be anything. Your secret’s still safe. Saun and Saaq just came in.”

“You know, maybe you should do one of those dating-by-mail things. Kuruk said that’s how he met his wife.”

“Kuruk is nearly 90. No one orders brides by mail anymore,” Mako muttered as he carefully ladled hot spruce-apple cider into a mug. “And I’m not looking for a wife.”

“You’re not looking for a hookup, either,” Bolin pointed out. “That’s why you and Saun never worked out.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mako frowned as he finished ladling the first mug. “Asami isn’t the type to elope,” he said, switching back to the previous topic of discussion. “She’s a planner; she wouldn’t rush into something as serious as marriage. And with a woman? It’s just too risky for her company.”

“It’s the full moon,” Bolin said as he stirred another block of chocolate into the pot. “Besides, the United Republic and the Southern Water Tribe accept same-sex marriages. If you’d asked her out _when I told you to_ , you wouldn’t have been beaten out by the super-muscular-super-gorgeous-mysterious-woman-of-the-South-Sea.”

The older brother paused as he looked over his shoulder, ladle dripping over the pot of amber liquid. “What does the full moon have to do with anything?”

“They have to get married and kiss before the full moon,” his little brother said, grass green eyes focused on the boiling camel-yak milk. “Or Korra can’t return to the sea.”

“Return to the sea?”

“You know, the spell. Like in the story.”

Mako groaned as understanding dawned upon him. “Not this again.”

“Mermaids do exist, dear brother,” Bolin haughtily stated as he stirred. “And I have proof!”

“What ‘proof’?”

“Search ye within mine inner jacket pocket, oh doubtful one, and doubt no more!”

The older brother rolled his amber eyes (yet again. It was a wonder they hadn’t rolled into the back of his head) and set the ladle back in the pot. He knew when Bolin began talking like a Sozin-era actor that there was no arguing with him. Sometimes he regretted taking him to those free performances in Industrial Park when they were little. He was just trying to distract them from their empty bellies for a few hours.

Reaching a pale hand into Bolin’s green jacket, his hand touched something cold and surprisingly sharp. “Ow!”

“Oh, yeah. Be careful. It’s really sharp.”

“Now you tell me,” Mako muttered, finding a smooth, round handle to grasp the sharp object. He pulled his now-bleeding hand out of the pocket along with a bone-and-shell knife. The older brother carefully transferred it to his uninjured hand and examined his finger. It was a small cut, but it was impressive considering he’d only grazed his finger against the edge. He grabbed a rag off the shelf and wrapped it around his finger before studying the knife.

It was a handmade dagger; excellent balance, the bone handle fit smoothly in his grasp. Judging by its color the shell blade might have been conch, carefully carved and sharpened and mounted snugly into the bone. It was only sharpened on one side, but it was razor thin and scalloped – and there wasn’t a single knick along the edge.

“Where did you get this?”

“Asami’s boat. I spotted it on the floor next to her workbench when she went downstairs.”

“You _stole_ it?!”

“What?! No!” Bolin’s head snapped up from his pot. “I was going to take it back! Honest! I just ….” He sighed as he pouted over his nearly complete batch of hot chocolate. “I just wanted some proof.”

“Bolin,” Mako sighed, putting the dagger back into the inner pocket. “A bone-and-shell dagger doesn’t prove there are mermaids. This _is_ the Southern Water Tribe.”

“Water Tribers don’t make blades out of shell,” Bolin said, turning the heat of the finished hot chocolate down to a simmer. “The edge dulls too fast, and they chip easily. They always use tooth or bone.”

Mako furrowed his eyebrows as he headed to the sink to wash his hands and his new cut. Bolin was right; but, “That still doesn’t prove there are mermaids. It’s probably just a ceremonial thing; a souvenir Asami picked up.”

“It’s a mermaid’s dagger! I know it!”

“I’ll admit it’s … unique,” Mako sighed, throwing the rag into the trash bin before washing his hands and grabbing the first aid kit. “But that doesn’t make it a ‘mermaid’ dagger.”

“Oh, come on, Mako! It all fits! The mermaid blood on Asami’s parka; the mysterious bright lights from the boat; the even more mysterious, beautiful woman with _a belt made of shells_ ; the matching tattoos! That dagger belongs to a mermaid! And that mermaid is Korra!”

Mako frowned as he applied Kuruk’s special Air Nomad ointment to his finger. The old innkeeper bought it from Kya, Tenzin’s eclectic world-traveling sister, whenever she stopped through the village. Mako always thought it was odd that she would stop _here_ , but, then again, _all_ of Master Aang’s kids were odd. Kya always gave him this weird vibe, like she was staring through him with those sky blue eyes. Now that he thought about it, he got the same weird vibe from Korra when she’d been sitting on the bed, staring at him through the door as he leaned against Asami’s stove.

“There is something weird about Korra,” Mako admitted as he tied a fresh strip of thin linen around his cut, pulling the knot with the help of his teeth. “But that doesn’t mean she’s a mermaid.”

“It doesn’t mean she _isn’t_ a mermaid,” Bolin countered.

“Bolin,” Mako sighed as he put the first aid kit back on the shelf. “We’re not kids anymore. We’re adults. We run a business. Mermaids don’t exist. Magic doesn’t exist. Let it go.”

Bolin folded his arms across his chest, steam rising beside him from his fresh pot of hot chocolate. “Just because you don’t understand it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

The older brother quickly ladled the second order of cider, picked up the two full mugs, and headed for the kitchen door. “You’re delusional, bro.”

“We’ll see who’s delusional!” Bolin yelled as Mako backed through the door.

The patrons at the bar chuckled, accustomed to the random outbursts from the kitchen that entertained them each night. The twins raised their mugs to Mako in thanks, Nasauna also raising a questioning eyebrow at Mako with a slanted smile. Mako shook his head subtly, and she shrugged before turning her attention back to the argument she and her brother were having with Hapa about the best fishing line for tooth-fish.

Someone called his name, and as he weaved through the full tables of the small room toward the sound he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure heading out of the door. A tall, grey-haired woman, tan shoulders exposed, various shades of blue dress vanishing through the doorway. He automatically turned his head toward Kuruk’s table. It was empty.

Mako’s amber eyes narrowed. He didn’t know why, but his instincts told him Kya’s appearance and Kuruk’s disappearance wasn’t coincidence. And he trusted his instincts.

“Ah!” Mako jumped as a sharp pinch was delivered to his backside. He glared at the elderly woman closest to him, who smiled slyly up at him over her mug of ale.

“You can’t blame an old woman for trying,” she winked as her fellow widows tittered.

Mako huffed and stormed back into the kitchen. The genders were certainly equal in the South; equal, but not better.

“Hey!” Bolin quickly stepped clear of the door as Mako shoved through it, balancing two bowls and two mugs on a tray. “Watch it!”

“Sorry, Bo.” Mako rubbed his face in frustration with both hands, the rough fabric of his linen bandage scratching his nose. A thought crossed his mind. “Say, why don’t we head over to Asami’s first thing in the morning?”

Bolin’s green eyes darted across his brother’s face. A concerned smile slightly turned up his lips. “Sure, bro. First thing.” He nodded as Mako held open the door for him to pass.

Mako stood in the kitchen for a moment. His eyes traveled to the pocket of Bolin’s parka, hanging beside the door. He frowned as a sinking feeling settled into his stomach. That feeling stayed with him through the rest of dinner, weighed upon his shoulders as they washed up and locked up for the night, disturbed his dreams as he tossed and turned in his bed.

He wasn’t surprised when the night bell rang above his bed, the old brass clanging as someone outside frantically pulled the chain. He quickly pulled on a pair of pants over his boxers and slipped into his boots before grabbing his parka and rushing downstairs, shoving his arms into the sleeves as he went. He didn’t know what to expect when he opened the door, but he knew it wouldn’t be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What-what? Two weeks on time?! Glory! (Pats self on back)
> 
> A Merry Christmas to those who celebrate this wonderful time of sharing and loving. I'm looking forward to all the hugs and kisses I've been missing. It's not about the presents; it's about the people.
> 
> I'm working on the next chapter. It's shaping up slowly; I think it's going to be one of those 20-revision chapters. :'(
> 
> I updated the summary, but it still sounds awful to me. It's hard to write a summary about an incomplete story that evolves as I write it. Eh.


	14. Friend or Foe?

It was child’s play, really. She knew there was no way she was going to catch up with a trained assassin half her age, so Kya pulled a trick she used to play on Bumi when they were little (and, maybe, last summer when she went to Republic City to visit).

She used magic to weaken the stitching of the soles of the goggled-man’s boots, just a little stress aided by the pressure of his steps, until the sole at the toe flapped open _just_ enough to catch his foot and trip him. The running man pitched forward, good arm flailing in a vain attempt to catch his balance before he slammed into the tundra.

Kya reached him just as he was getting to his knees. She grabbed him by his belt at full speed, hurtling him off balance again as she threw him. She slowed as he skid across the delicate summer flora once again, a smirk crossing her face when she heard him trying to spit grit out of his mouth.

The grey-haired mermaid stood next to him, hands on hips, just out of arm’s reach of the mustached man. “Who sent you?”

It wasn’t hard to figure out that this guy was hired by someone to take out Asami. The question was who? And why? She was worried about the young businesswoman, but Korra had some skill at healing (mostly earned after foolish confrontations with predators three times the young mermaid’s size). The wound hadn’t gushed or spurt, thank Raava. She hoped she’d made to right decision to chase after the assassin.

Hiroshi had made more than a few enemies while dabbling in the weapons market, and Asami’s life had been threatened several times the first year she took over the company. The threats ended with the attempted kidnapping, which turned into a joyride at breakneck speeds through the most congested streets (and sidewalks) of Republic City, piloted by Asami’s expert driving skills. By the time the heiress pulled up to police headquarters, the pair of men were begging to be arrested (they even kissed the sidewalk when Lin opened the car door).

As the CEO of Future Industries, the ravenette would always be a target. True, she could usually handle herself – but this guy was different. Way different. Military trained; sea creature enhancements; some knowledge of magic. Whoever sent him sees Asami Sato as a threat _and_ knows about merfolk and the Source. Considering the events of the past couple of days, Kya was certain the choice of assassin was no coincidence. _There’s no such thing as coincidence._

The man grinned up at her, breathing hard as he cradled his injured arm. “The General sends his regards, half-breed.”

_Definitely not a coincidence._ “General who? Of what?”

“Noataq. Of the Northern Oasis.”

The bottom fell out of Kya’s stomach. She stared down at the grinning man, his lips spreading wider as he showed more teeth. She took a step closer, emotion overriding her good sense. He took advantage, sweeping a long leg and knocking her to the ground. In the few seconds it took to look up, the assassin was gone. She reached into the Source to find him, only managing to pick up a faint ripple in the South Sea. Wherever he was heading, there was no way to catch up to him, now. _May he be eaten alive. Slowly and painfully._

Kya stood up and dusted herself off, her grey eyebrows drawn into a deep furrow as she scanned the horizon. _Noataq_. The name sent shivers down her spine. He’d turned out to be just like his father, Yakone. They’d had no choice but to kill Yakone outright, but they’d banished his eldest son. Of course, banishment was usually its own death sentence….

The grey-haired woman turned and ran back toward Asami’s yacht, ignoring the pain of her bleeding bare feet as she pelted across the frosty ground. She could heal them later. First, she had to get back to Korra, make certain she was safe. _Tonraq and Senna would never forgive me,_ she thought, pumping her arms harder as she closed the distance.

***

Asami tensed as she stared up into the barrel of her knot-judging neighbor’s rifle. Neither she nor the blue-eyed woman in whose arms she was currently cradled had moved to obey his orders. In fact, Korra had tightened her grip on Asami’s upper arm, effectively pinning the taller woman. She was tired, slightly nauseated, and her stomach was very sore. She felt if she stood up too fast she would pass out. Which was just as well, because her weakness prevented her from doing something uncharacteristically stupid – like ripping that fucking rifle out of the elderly man’s hands and beating him with it.

Not that she hadn’t calculated the possibility of doing it anyway (though none of the scenarios ended well for either her or Korra).

She was _pissed_. She’d just been stabbed; Kya was off chasing a murderous madman … thing; she didn’t know _what_ was going on between her and Korra; and she still had to figure out how to save an entire colony of merfolk from drowning by electromagnetic field. And, then, to add insult to injury, _this_ old codger barges onto _her_ vessel and threatens her as if _she_ was the bad guy!

The heiress narrowed her eyes and glared at the old man. _You have no idea how lucky you are, you fu-_

“Paajuk! Put that down!” A woman’s voice ordered. “We need them alive. Remember?”

The CEO’s gaze shifted toward the main door. A slightly stooped Water Tribe woman entered the cabin. Her silver hair was pulled back, though Asami couldn’t tell from her position if it was in a braid, ponytail, or bun. She was taller than the gun-toting man, but not as tall as herself. She wore a long-sleeved blue pelt tunic with front and back tails and white fur curling back along the edges, embroidered with tiny white and black beads and shells, over dark blue tiger-sealskin pants tied just above the ankles. Her shoes were more Earth Kingdom style, her thin brown ankles exposed to the elements.

“I know how to handle a rifle, Aaju,” The elderly man looked over his shoulder at the woman. “I taught you. Remember?”

“I remember you nearly blowing off your own pinky toe,” Aaju muttered, coming to stand beside him. Asami could make out part of a thick, silver plait. “Please forgive my brother. We mean you no harm. We just need your cooperation.”

The man grumbled something under his breath which caused the silver-haired woman to shoot him a glare until he begrudgingly shifted his grip and lowered the butt of his gun in one hand until the barrel was pointed in the air, away from any of the occupants.

Asami and Korra exchanged wary glances. She was glad their lives weren’t in jeopardy, but she wasn’t sure what was going on. A kidnapping? An interrogation? Both? Why now?

“Why are you here?” Korra asked, her tone flat and warning.

The elderly woman raised a faint eyebrow. “I could ask you the same question.”

“She’s my guest,” Asami interjected, rolling her eyes in part to hide her pain as she sat up on her own. “You two, however, are trespassing. Either explain yourselves, or leave.”

“Yur in no condition to give orders,” Paajuk scoffed.

Korra flexed as she released her hold, just enough to draw attention to the corded muscles underneath her tawny skin. “Try me, old man.”

Paajuk moved to raise his gun, but paused when his sister held up her hand. “We apologize for the intrusion, but we are concerned for the safety of this village and its people.” Aaju said. “The activities on your boat these past few nights haven’t gone unnoticed. People are worried that what you’re testing could be harming the environment.”

“‘Could be?’” Paajuk huffed. He grunted as Aaju jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. She grunted when he jabbed her back.

Asami remembered now who this woman was, Mako having pointed her out one night at the inn, gossiping with two other elderly women. She was the former magistrate, a post now held by her only child and son, Ruupak – a mild mannered, quiet, bespectacled man in his thirties. The old man was her twin brother, and there was scorch mark on one side of the fireplace from a fight they’d had in the inn when they were in their twenties. It was difficult for Asami to imagine her ever being responsible for upholding the law.

 “What do you mean?” Asami asked, deciding not to volunteer any information. “What activities?”

“Screeching metal. Loud bangs. Shouting. Bright light,” Aaju said, crossing her arms. “I saw the light myself, tonight. Twice. We were going to wait until morning, but....”

_Ah._ Asami sighed internally, feeling some regret she hadn’t fully heeded Kya’s warning. She kept her expression neutral, out of habit, but she noticed Korra flinch out of the corner of her eye. It was all too clear from Aaju’s expression that she’d noticed Korra’s body language, too.

_Well, can’t say we didn’t see anything._ “We were attacked,” Asami said, deciding to be honest but deflect the blame. “Tall man, thin, long pencil mustaches. Obviously military trained, but he wasn’t wearing a uniform I recognize, with goggles and a hooded dive-skin. We managed to overpower him, but I was injured before he ran off. He left behind one of his stun batons.”

The silver-haired woman looked down and over at the weapon lying on the floor where Asami had just pointed it out with a glance and a nod of her raven-tressed head. Neither she nor her brother made a move to pick it up. They exchanged uncomfortable glances, and Paajuk’s shoulders drooped a little.

“You _know_ him,” Korra accused, rising to her feet, flipping her tousled brown hair out of her face with an annoyed jerk of her head. “Who is he?!”

“Peace, daughter,” Aaju said, using a common term of address between Water Tribers of different generations. “We do not know who attacked you, but we’ve seen this weapon before.”

“Kilt my Juju,” Paajuk said, his pale blue eyes watering. “Best polar dog I ever had.”

Aaju rubbed his shoulder, frowning sadly at him. “We know Future Industries works closely with the military. We’ve seen some similar bursts of light near the base. Each time it happens there are fewer animals to hunt, fish to catch. When the United Forces and the Northern Navy wouldn’t give us satisfactory answers, Paajuk went to investigate. That’s when….”

Green eyes glanced at the weapon again. Most stun batons were only live at one end. It was quite unfortunate that his polar dog just happened to pick it up at that end. It was also unlikely that a weapon was just left lying about a military base. The genius figured it was left there on purpose, a trap waiting for a snooping villager. Probably one of _many_ traps. _He was lucky it was the polar dog instead of him._

Her brain, unbidden, imagined the moment the furry creature grasped it with slobbering tongue and jaws. The memory of burnt hair filled her nose, choked her as it collected at the back of her throat, thick and acrid. Her chest tightened as her heart hammered against her ribs, constricting her airway.

Asami swallowed hard as her vision blurred. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take deep, slow breaths, willing the nausea back down. She felt Korra kneel down next to her, a warm hand pressed against her back. “I’m okay,” she murmured softly.

“No, you’re not,” Korra murmured back.

“She needs to see the shaman,” Aaju said.

“You have a shaman?” Korra asked.

The elderly woman chuckled. “Yep. A damned good one, too.”

“Asami?”

Asami willed herself to open her eyes. She slowly turned her head until she was peering into cerulean orbs. “Kya,” she whispered.

Chocolate eyebrows furrowed as the caramel woman chewed on the inside of her cheek. “The gun’s not loaded,” Korra whispered.

Ebony eyebrows furrowed as she took in that information. “Are you sure?” Korra nodded once in reply. “But … why?”

“I don’t know,” the blue eyed woman whispered. “But you’re hurt, and they have a shaman. It’s not safe here; and I don’t know what else to do. Kya’ll find us.”

Asami worried her lower lip. She wasn’t sure if the panic attack was a symptom or a cause, but it was hindering her ability to think. She didn’t want to leave the yacht, but there could be another attack before morning. Maybe going to another location was the best solution – especially if that location housed a healer. The pale woman nodded, closing her eyes again as the movement caused the room to spin.

“Where’s this shaman?” Korra asked the elderly siblings.

“In the village,” Aaju replied. Asami heard steps approach them. “I’m surprised she held up as long as she did,” Aaju said, her voice softer, but closer. “Can you carry her?”

“Y-yeah,” Korra replied.

“N-no,” Asami said. She cringed at the way her voice cracked. Clearing her throat, she repeated herself. “No. I can walk.”

The old woman snorted. “Sato pride, huh? Fine, suit yourself.” Footsteps retreated. “I’ll take them to Saakorat. You round up a posse, track down that intruder.”

“Wit’ pleasure,” Paajuk growled.

Heavy footsteps hurried away as a strong arm wrapped around her back and fingers pressed into the back of her armpit.

“On three,” Korra murmured. “One. Two.”

The next second Asami felt her upper body lifted and she pushed up with her feet as much as she could to help. She kept her eyes closed, took a minute to keep her shoulder pressed into the mermaid. The hand moved from flannel armpit to flannel shoulder, gave a comforting squeeze through the thick fabric.

“I-I can carry you,” Korra said softly. “Really. No problem.”

Asami smiled at that. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up from her crooked position into blue pools of light. Her nausea subsided; the tightness in her chest eased. “I know. That’s why I won’t let you.”

A crooked grin spread as Korra chuckled. “And I thought _I_ was stubborn.”

“I will need shoes, though,” Asami said.

A confused look crossed Korra’s face, then blue eyes widened. “Oh. Right. Shoes.” She guided Asami into the chair that they were going to use to restrain their attacker. “Be right back.”

Green eyes followed the muscular form as she disappeared down the steps, brown hair flowing behind in her rush.

“You two are cute together,” Aaju observed.

Asami turned to face the silver-haired woman. She was surprised when she didn’t feel her face and neck flush. She didn’t reply.

Aaju frowned. She opened her mouth to speak just as Korra came back up the stairs carrying two pairs of boots and a lavender parka. Silver eyebrows furrowed over narrowed blue eyes. “I didn’t catch your name,” she said.

Korra exchanged a quick glance with Asami before responding. “Korra.”

“Korra,” Aaju repeated. She hummed in thought, then stepped through main cabin door. “Come on. Some of us need our beauty sleep.”

Blue eyes rolled as the mermaid huffed, plopping on the floor next to her. “What’s biting her?”

Asami shrugged as they pulled on their boots. She didn’t know what the next part of their journey held in store, but she said a silent prayer to Raava that Aaju and Paajuk were trustworthy, and that Kya would find them. Soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I despise this chapter. Maybe it's just self-doubt, but I truly cannot stand it. Still need it, though. So many threads to tie together!!!
> 
> Feel free to comment. Remember, I'm a fragile flower, dammit.
> 
> Oh! And I have a tumblr account (geminisweet). There's nothing on it, but you can still stop by and say hi.


	15. Family Ties (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asami and Korra seek sanctuary in the care of dubious allies, while Mako and Bolin are called to arms.

A thick fog was rolling in as the trio entered the village. The damp, cold air hung heavy in Asami’s uncovered hair, and she shivered under her parka. Strong, bare arms briefly squeezed her shoulders, trying to lend a little extra warmth in the chill of night.

Asami was relieved when Aaju finally stopped in front of a solid wooden door. She’d tried to walk mostly of her own volition, but she was sore and exhausted and _freezing_. Korra was clearly tired as well, but the mermaid stoically supported more and more of her weight as the old woman marched them from the docks. She leaned fully against the shorter woman, visibly shaking as they waited for the door to open.

They’d been careful not to touch each other’s skin in the presence of the suspicious old woman, but Asami could tell that she was growing more and more wary of Korra. The mermaid was walking on two legs and Water Tribers were famously tolerant of the cold, both from exposure and generations of evolutionary adaptation. Even so, no human would be able to stand still in a tank top and sleep pants in the middle of a Southern night without _at least_ getting lion-goosebumps. Unperturbed by the freezing temperature, Korra stood tall, blue eyes narrowed and sharp, muscles taut under _bare_ and _smooth_ dark skin as strong arms wrapped protectively around her shivering shoulders in the shadow of the stone building.

“Where did you say you were from, Korra?” Aaju looked over her shoulder, body facing the door as they waited for the shaman to open it.

“I didn’t,” Korra replied, eyes fixed upon the door.

The former magistrate grunted and turned her face back to the door as the locks clicked. The door opened to reveal a Water Tribe man in a thin, loose, long-sleeved white shirt. The strings of cloth that tied the shirt closed were loose, exposing a triangle of bare chest down to the man’s sternum. A pair of dark, loose sleep pants completed his attire. He was taller than Asami, and just as thin, with a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose. His long black hair was tied back loosely, a few strands framing his frown.

“Mother?” The thin man scanned the motley crew before him. “What is going on?”

“Miss Sato was attacked. I’m granting her and her … friend, Korra, sanctuary. Is Saakorat here?” Aaju stepped past the taller man to enter the building. With a glance behind her, Asami and Korra followed.

The tall man stood behind the door to let them pass. “Of course. He always gets supplies when the UF comes to port.”

Asami felt the air shift as the heavy door closed behind them. She swallowed as the locks clicked in the door. Beside her, Korra’s frame tensed as they slowly followed Aaju’s silver braid down the hall. Their feet rustled across the thick, greenish-blue straw of the mat that ran the length of the hallway. A few ornate tapestries hung against the stone walls on either side, separated by closed wooden doors. Asami realized they were portraits; posed Water Tribe figures in differing outfits, save for a fur cloak with identical patterns dyed into the white trim and held in place by the same large, ornate clasp. The portraits were woven, not painted, and exquisitely detailed. It occurred to the businesswoman that they must be in the village courthouse – which was also the village jail.

_Raava, help us, please_ , Asami silently prayed.

Aaju reached the end of the hall and turned right. She opened the door and waited for the younger women to catch up, the tall man strolling slowly behind them.

Asami felt the warm air just as they reached the woman. They followed her through the door and into another stone hall with a bluish-green straw mat. This mat showed signs of wear, pressed flat and shiny down the middle. The lights were on, and noise came from a large, open doorway to their right.

They followed Aaju through that doorway and was greeted with the sight of another tall man’s well-muscled back, dressed only in dark sleep pants, his long black hair twisted up with chopsticks. He was standing in front of a stove, stirring a pot. Part of a large tattoo was just visible on his left shoulder and upper arm. A series of cabinets stood against the walls. A fireplace crackled at one end of the room. A large wooden table with Water Tribe carvings stood in the middle of the room, two long matching benches running along its long sides.

“Saakorat.” Aaju greeted the man warmly, walking up and touching his elbow.

“Hello, Mama,” he replied, his voice raspy and deep, but kind. He leaned down so she could kiss him on the cheek.

“I told you to call me Aaju,” she huffed, swatting his shoulder. “You make me feel like an old woman.”

“You _are_ an old woman,” Saakorat chuckled, focused on his pot. “Have a seat. I’m almost finished.”

Aaju shuffled to the table, gesturing to Asami and Korra to sit. Korra stepped over the bench; Asami elected to sit on the back side and then pivot her tired legs up and over the bench until she was facing the table. Once she was situated, Korra sat down beside her. Asami immediately resumed her position snuggled against Korra, pressing as much of her body against the mermaid’s heat as possible.

“Any Nomad brandy?” Aaju grunted, following Asami’s example as she took her seat.

“Not since Kya’s last trip.” Asami assumed Aaju’s son was opening and closing cabinet doors.

 “Oh? But, Kya’s in town.”

“Is she?” Saakorat’s voice reached Asami’s ears, and she realized she’d closed her eyes. “Good. I could use some more salve.”

“You haven’t seen her?” Aaju said.

“No.” Saakorat replied. “But, I wasn’t expecting her.”

“It is odd that she’s in Arakaa this early,” the son said. “I wonder why?”

“After the year we’ve had, I’m not surprised,” Saakorat said. “I’ve never seen so many dead predators. And so close to the village. There’s no United Forces Navy to bring them food.”

“You’re running out of food?” Korra asked. Asami opened her eyes at that, craning her head to see a scrunched, dark brown eyebrow over thick dark lashes surrounding a bright blue eye.

“There isn’t enough fish to feed the villagers _and_ the tiger sharks,” Saakorat replied. “And the tiger seal and whale hunts provided less than half of what we need.”

Asami felt Korra’s gasp more than she heard it. Blue eyes widened in shock, before narrowing in … confusion? Suspicion? She followed Korra’s gaze to see the shaman had turned his back to the stove and was approaching the table with a plate of steaming buns. The remainder of the tattoo turned out to be a large tapestry of bold, swirling black marks extending from his sternum and spreading across his left pectoral and down his left bicep. They were beautiful, and somehow reminded her of the tattoo she and the mermaid shared.

The shaman hesitated a moment as he placed the plate of buns on the table. He kept his eyes on Korra as he stepped over the bench and sat on one side of Aaju, while her son approached her other side with a tray of full cream-colored mugs painted with blue diamonds across the middle. The son reached over and placed a mug in front of everyone at the table before he took his seat. Asami could smell chocolate and spice rising with the steam. She sat up, wrapping her blue-tinted hands around the warm, glazed clay.

“It’s not as good as Bolin’s.” Saakorat smiled at Asami. “But it’ll warm you up.” He turned his attention back to Korra.

“You’re the shaman?” Korra asked.

“Yes.”

“Shouldn’t you … _do_ … something?”

“What? Like spread my fingers and chant?” Saakorat laughed. Asami could feel Korra’s thigh tense against hers. “Peace, little sister. All the medicine she needs is in that mug: sugar and chocolate for the shock, spice and heat for the cold, and a full belly so she can sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Asami mumbled, her hands stinging as blood rushed back into the capillaries.

“Here,” Korra said. Asami looked over as the mermaid gently took the warm mug out of her tingling fingers. She pouted at the loss of heat. “Good. Take a small sip, okay?”

Asami hummed as Korra pressed the mug against her lips. She sipped, pulling in only warm steam at first. When the warm liquid rushed through her lips she was surprised by how well the spice complimented the incredibly sweet, rich cream. She followed the mug as it pulled away, whining a bit in complaint.

“Easy,” Korra murmured. “Small sips, remember?”

Asami nodded. She pouted again, and the mug returned. She took a smaller sip, this time with less steamed air and more of the hot chocolate. When the mug pulled away she licked her lips, then burped. Her eyes opened wide and she took in Saakorat, Aaju and Aaju’s son sitting across from her. “Excuse me.”

“No need,” the son smiled. “Speaking of rudeness, I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. You’ve already met my mother, Aaju, former magistrate of Port Arakaa. I am Ruupak, sitting magistrate of Port Arakaa. He is Saakorat, son of Juaanguaq, of the North. He is our shaman and my spirit-brother.”

“He fell off a boat and I pulled him out of the water,” Saakorat said dryly.

“He pulled me out of the sea during a storm,” Ruupak clarified. “He saved my life.”

“I’m Ashami Shato, she-E-O of Future Indushtriesh,” Asami said, easily slipping into the well-practiced role, though she could hear herself slurring a bit. “And this is my f-f-f-f … Korra. Thank you sho much.”

“Have another sip, hm?” Korra said.

Asami smiled, dribbling a bit when she started sipping after the liquid reached her lips. Korra patted her mouth dry. At least, she thought it was Korra. Her eyes had closed, again, of their own volition.

“Are you sure there’s no brandy in there?” Aaju asked.

“Just cream, sugar, chocolate and spice,” Saakorat said. “Give it a few minutes to digest.”

“More,” Asami mumbled. She was rewarded with the press of warm ceramic and she sipped, this time without dribbling. When the mug pulled away, she swallowed and sighed before leaning sideways against the warm woman next to her, resting her head against a strong shoulder.

“Well, Korra, as Miss Sato clearly can’t answer any questions right now,” Ruupak said. “Why are you two seeking sanctuary?”

“We were attacked,” Korra said.

“By whom?” Ruupak asked.

“We don’t know.”

“What did they look like?”

“It was just one … man,” Korra answered. “Tall, skinny, weird stringy mustache. He wore a camouflage suit. It turned gray when Kya cut him.”

“Wait,” Saakorat said. “What color was the suit before?”

“It wasn’t any color,” Korra said, shifting underneath Asami. She reluctantly lifted her head to take another sip of the deliciously warm drink. “It was camouflaged. He was practically invisible.”

“‘Practically invisible’? What part of him _was_ visible?”

“His shadow.” Korra pulled the mug away and Asami snuggled back into her shoulder.

“Where’s Kya?” Ruupak asked.

“Don’t know,” Korra sighed. “She chased after him.”

“By herself?”

Korra snorted. “Have you _met_ Kya? She’s fine.”

“I thought you’d met Kya through Asami,” Aaju said.

“Um,” Korra stalled. “No.”

“How long have you known Kya?” Ruupak asked.

Korra heaved a resigned sigh. “All of my life.”

“Where are you from?”

Korra said nothing. Her body moved, then Asami heard her swallow. A dull thunk of mug on tabletop followed another movement. The mermaid still didn’t answer.

“There aren’t many people who recognize this symbol, Korra,” Saakorat said. “Do you know what it means?”

Asami felt the mermaid shift underneath her cheek. “No.”

“But, you’ve seen it before?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

Asami opened her eyes when Korra pressed the mug against her lips. She took a deeper sip, pulling away herself when she’d gotten a few good swallows. She laid her head back on Korra’s shoulder, but she kept her eyes open enough to see their hosts through her eyelashes. They wore serious expressions. _What symbol are they talking about?_

“Before I answer,” Korra said, her voice low and clear, her heart racing underneath Asami’s ear. “I have a few questions.”

Saakorat pulled his mouth to one side, considering her words. “Very well. Go ahead.”

“You said you’re from the North?” Korra waited for the shaman to nod. “How did you get here?”

“I defected from the Northern Army,” Saakorat said. “I was banished and I worked my way South until I met Ruupak. The village needed a shaman; I needed a home.”

“Why did you defect?”

Saakorat narrowed his eyes. He took a deep breath then exhaled slowly. “This,” he said, placing his right hand over his heart. “Once I learned of Unalaq’s treachery, I could no longer serve him. He is _not_ the true chief of the Water Tribe. The _true_ chief was a great man, a proud warrior, who put the safety and well-being of his people before his own personal gain.” He dropped his hand and picked up his mug, taking a slow sip. “Now, I’ve answered your questions. Will you answer mine?”

Asami felt Korra shift underneath her, strands of hair brushing her forehead.

“Very well,” the shaman sighed, the look of resigned disappointment mirrored on three faces. He set down his mug and stood up. “Your business is your business. But, I do hope that – in the future – you and Miss Sato will be allies in our struggle. For now,” he gestured toward them, “I think it’s time you two got some rest.”

“About time,” Aaju quipped. “I thought we’d have to carry Sato to bed.”

“By ‘we’ you mean myself or Saakorat,” Ruupak surmised.

“No,” Aaju said. “I meant both of you. There’s no way Korra would’ve let either of you touch her, and she’s so tired she would’ve fallen over. Then you’d both have to carry one apiece.”

“That still isn’t the definition of ‘we’, Mother,” Ruupak sighed, helping his mother swing out from the bench.

“I’m going to bed,” Aaju replied, standing up. She kissed both of her “sons” on the cheek before walking around the table and leaving the kitchen. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” the men replied in unison.

“Asami?”

“Hmm?” Asami lifted her head, sleepy green eyes meeting blue.

“Can you stand?”

Asami scrunched her toes in her boots and nodded. She slowly pushed herself to her feet, grateful for Korra’s steadying grip on her upper arm. Together, they shuffled down the bench until they could exit. Saakorat stood at the end of the table, waiting for them.

“I’ll clean up,” Ruupak said. “Goodnight, little sisters.”

“Goodnight,” the women murmured, Asami’s punctuated with a yawn. They followed the shaman back into the main hall with its worn, green mat and followed it all the way to the end. A door opened onto a staircase, and the two women started up the stairs with the muscular man a few steps behind. When they reached the top, they stepped out of the way and let Saakorat lead. He walked down to the fourth door on the left, pushing it open and stepping aside. Inside the room was a four poster bed with drapes of dyed pelts hanging from its frame. A rug of pelts covered the stone floor beneath it and a foot or so beyond it. A fire crackled in the fireplace against the outer wall. A tall wardrobe, a desk and chair, and two bedside tables completed the furnishings.

“You two should be warm enough in here,” Saakorat said, crossing over to the bed. He turned down the blankets and pulled a set of clothes from under the nearest pillow. “It looks like you’re already dressed for bed, but just in case you want to change. The boot rack is behind the door.” He started to leave, but stopped as he passed Korra.

“The person who shares this tattoo, are they close to you?” When Korra nodded, the shaman smiled. “Then we are friends, no matter their name.” He kept walking, then paused again at the door. “It gives me hope to know there are others who still remember. Unalaq has tried to erase his existence, but Tonraq still lives on, in us.”

Saakorat put his hand on the doorknob and pulled it closed behind him.

***

Mako opened the slat beside the door. Nasauna stood outside the door, her rifle hanging from its strap on her shoulder. Frowning, he closed the slat and unlocked the door. He opened it just enough for her to see his face, but not enough to let her into the inn.

“Nasauna? What’s going on?”

“Grandpa’s calling a posse,” Nasauna said, her blue eyes dark in the foggy night.

“Why? What happened?”

“Someone attacked Sato.”

Mako’s heart skipped a beat. He took a breath and opened the door wider, stepping behind it. He waited for the woman to pass through, then closed and locked it behind them. “Is she okay?”

“Your girlfriend’s fine,” Nasauna smirked. “She’s with Auntie Aaju.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Mako said. “We’re just … friendly acquaintances.”

“I’m just teasing, Mako.” The young woman sat down, pulling off her rifle and standing it on its butt, her hand resting on the barrel. “Fog’s rolling in pretty fast. You two better hurry up before the rest of the posse leaves.”

Mako nodded and headed behind the bar to the kitchen, deciding to take the back stairs instead of the front ones he just came down. They had about fifteen guests staying at the inn, members of hunting families struggling to survive just outside of the village proper. They would be the first ones in line to receive rations from the United Forces in the morning, by order of the magistrate (and Kuruk’s fist). Last night was the first filling meal they’d had in weeks. He knew how good it felt to sleep on a full belly after surviving on half of a steamed bun for days on end. He didn’t want to disturb them.

He opened the door at the top of the stairs, carefully closing it behind him. Bolin’s room was directly across the hall. He opened the door a crack and listened, before peeking his head inside to see Pabu sitting up and staring back at him, large ears perked.

“Hey, Pabu,” Mako whispered. “Wake Bo up, wouldya?”

The fire ferret gave a low, concerned chirp, his little beady eyes confused.

“There’s trouble in the village,” Mako replied, wondering to himself again how Bolin managed to make friends with the only rodent in the world who was capable of understanding human speech. “Asami’s been hurt.”

At that, Pabu gave a firm squeak and uncurled from his comfy spot on the pillow next to Bolin’s head. He quickly burrowed underneath the thick arm. Two seconds later, Bolin shot straight up in bed, eyes wide open.

“Pabu!” He hissed, holding his side where the fire ferret had nipped him. “Geez! That stings!”

“Glad you’re up,” Mako whispered.

Bolin pouted and rubbed his side. “What’s the emergency? And why are we whispering?”

“Don’t want to wake the guests. Someone attacked Asami,” Mako whispered, crossing to the bedside nightstand. He opened the drawer and pulled out Bolin’s holster, a pistol buckled inside of it. “They’re recruiting a posse.”

Bolin’s face and shoulders drooped as he regarded the holster in Mako’s hand. With a tired sigh, he nodded and held out his hand to take the weapon bound in leather. “I’ll be down in a minute,” he mumbled.

Mako nodded, turning to leave. “Take the back stairs.”

“Okay.”

That task accomplished, the elder brother headed down the hall to his room next door. Once inside, he quickly changed, pulled on a second pair of socks, and shoved his feet into his boots. He pulled his pistol from underneath his pillow, released the clip, checked the magazine, reloaded, and checked the safety. Mako pulled the holster out of his bedside drawer, snapped it around his belt and secured it against his undershirt. He checked the safety of his gun again before sticking it into the holster. Once armed, he pulled his jacket on and buttoned it, wrapped his father’s scarf around his neck, and headed downstairs.

Mako entered the kitchen and headed toward a tall metal cabinet in the corner. He unlocked it and pulled out two rifles. He checked and cleaned the firearms every week or so, so he only checked the safety on each before loading them. He was putting a handful of shells into his jacket pocket when Bolin trudged down the stairs. Mako nodded toward the counter where he’d laid the two weapons. Bolin picked up one, checked it, then crossed over to the cabinet. He grabbed a handful of shells to put in his jacket pocket, then silently exited the kitchen.

Sighing, Mako locked the cabinet and picked up the remaining rifle. He stepped through the door to see Bolin leaning against the wall next to the main door, staring at the floor. When he met Nasauna’s confused expression, he shook his head. “Bo’s not a fan of guns.”

“I thought you said he’s a good shot,” Nasauna replied.

“He’s an excellent shot,” Mako said. “A real natural. That’s the problem.”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Bolin said, unlocking the door and walking into the fog.

Mako nodded his chin to Nasauna. She shrugged and stood up, hanging her rifle from her shoulder as she followed Bolin out of the inn. Mako shut the door behind him, pulling the latch so the crossbar fell into place once he shut the door. The familiar thunk sounded, and he lengthened his stride to catch up to the sullen form of his little brother marching behind Nasauna.

The brothers marched in step, eyes constantly scanning the blurred edges of the buildings as they made their way to the port. They could hear voices in the distance. The voices grew louder as they got closer, which didn’t alarm Mako until he realized that the voices were nearly shouting. All three of them started jogging toward the sound.

As they approached, Mako could make out a small gathering through the fog. A few paces closer, and the small gathering was two groups – one small group of four or five people dressed in white, and a larger group of at least twenty spread out in a loose semi-circle. The brothers followed Nasauna as she headed to the front of the closest outer edge.

“-where Miss Sato is,” a familiar voice commanded.

“And I tol’ YOU,” Paajuk shouted, “that we don’t know whur she is!”

Paajuk was standing in the middle of the semi-circle, his grandson Nassaaq and the parts store owner Okak on either side of him, their rifles on their shoulders. They were facing five United Forces Navy seamen in uniform – make that _four_ navy seamen and one General Iroh II, second in command of the entire United Forces military, and Crown Prince of the Fire Nation.

_What’s he doing here?_ Mako exchanged glances with his little brother, the same question obviously on his mind. They stood ready, ears and eyes peeled as they watched the exchange.

“Paajuk,” General Iroh said, lowering his voice but still loud enough for the crowd to hear him. “The only reason why I’m here is to make certain Miss Sato is safe. We’re here to help.”

“You really wanna help? Stop Unalaq from stealing all our fish!” Paajuk countered.

A chorus of “yeahs” and murmurs of agreement rumbled from the crowd. The general scanned the armed group, waited for them to quiet down before he replied.

“The United Forces are here to provide humanitarian aid only,” he recited. “It is not the policy of the United Forces to intervene in the internal affairs of other nations.”

“Boos” rose to his incantation, which Mako could tell from the general’s demeanor that he fully expected. Everyone on the planet knew that the North was taking more fish from Southern waters in order to feed the growing population of the North. Chief Unalaq was sacrificing half of his tribe in order to prevent riots in the North. President Raiko refused to intervene, only sanctioning humanitarian aid in order to pull his numbers out of a slump before the last election. The next election wasn’t for another two years, so the ethnic Southerner had little motivation to upset his donors – including Unalaq’s not-so-secret man-behind-the-scenes, Varrick.

“Righ’ now yur interferin’ wit’ our manhunt,” Paajuk accused as the crowd quieted. “You can help us, or you can leave.”

“As soon as I see Miss Sato-” General Iroh began, taking a step toward Paajuk.

More than twenty rifles whipped to shoulders, safeties released and chambers loaded, including Mako’s and Bolin’s. The South was still bitter about the Fire Nation’s genocide campaign under the rule of General Iroh’s great-great grandfather. The peace treaty eventually negotiated between the nations explicitly states that no military force is allowed on Water Tribe soil without the permission of its people; it was a fiercely guarded right.

General Iroh II backed up, his hands in the air. The guns were not lowered.

“I see,” the general sighed. “It’s obvious that emotions are running a little high right now. We’ll head back to the ships. Just to show we mean no harm, I’ll send Captain Bumi over with supplies in the morning.”

“You do that,” Paajuk clipped.

The Fire Nation prince nodded his head. He turned his back and nodded to his men, stepped through the opening they made for him, and the small party headed back to the end of the dock where their speedboat was waiting. The posse watched through their sights as the motor sputtered to life and the boat bobbed across the waves and disappeared into the fog, the motor the only indication they were leaving.

When the sound could no longer be heard, guns slowly lowered and people began mumbling. Nasauna ran up to her grandfather and hugged him.

“I’m alright,” Paajuk chuckled, patting her back.

“I’m so proud of you, Baba,” Nasauna said before kissing him loudly on the cheek.

“What happened?” Mako asked as he approached.

“Caught ‘em climbin’ _off_ Sato’s boat,” Paajuk spat. “Said they were investigatin’ the cause of the light.”

“That was last night. How would they know about it?”

“It happened again tonight,” Nassaaq said. “Twice. I guess they saw the last one and got nosy.”

“But there’s no way they could tell whether that light came from the dock or the village,” Nasauna said. “Not from out there. Unless they were already watching her boat through one of their scopes.”

“Ex-xactly,” Paajuk said, clapping his granddaughter on the shoulder.

“So he knew ‘bout dat attack,” Okak reasoned. “Or he made up a reason to grab Sato.”

“On Raiko’s orders, I bet,” Paajuk growled. “If dat pompous half-breed traitor wants her, then _we_ don’ let dem _near_ her.”

“Where’s Asami?” Bolin asked.

“She’s with Saakorat,” Paajuk said. “She’s alright. Just a bit woozy.”

Mako felt a little better with that knowledge, but not by much. His mind was calculating, and the pieces weren’t adding up. “I think we should call off the manhunt.”

“City boy,” Okak chuckled. “Fog ain’t dat thick.”

“Actually, Okak,” Nasauna frowned, looking around them. “It is.”

They all looked around. The fog had indeed grown thicker, so white in the moonlight that it glistened between them and moving shadows less than ten feet away.

“Summer soup?” Okak wondered, eyebrows raised. “ _This_ early?”

“I didn’t want to believe Saakorat,” Nasauna said slowly. “But I guess he’s right. Whatever Unalaq is doing, it’s going to destroy us all.”

They stood in somber silence, the crowd of vigilante volunteers pressing closer.

“Mako. You feel like openin’ a few hours early?” Paajuk asked.

“Anything to help,” Mako replied firmly. Bolin nodded beside him.

“Okay, folks!” Paajuk yelled. “Hunt’s off! Home or Hearth, yer choice!”

The voices mumbled and some people said goodnight as Mako and Bolin turned as one to walk back to the inn. They walked as fast as they dared in the limited vision of the wet air to beat the crowd.

“You don’t think Iroh sent that guy, do you?” Bolin asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Mako murmured. “But they’re a week early, and right after they set anchor he goes straight to Asami’s boat. Something’s up. Something big.”

“Raiko’s been trying to get FI to sign a new arms contract, but Asami won’t touch nuclear weapons,” Bolin said. “Not after what her dad did.”

“Not willingly, she won’t,” Mako muttered.

Bolin’s eyes widened. “Iroh’s trying to _force_ her?”

“Or he’s worried someone else is,” Mako replied. “Either way….”

The two brothers exchanged worried glances and a firm nod. In the few weeks they’d know her, Asami had become a friend (almost a sister to Bolin). Such friendships were precious to the former homeless orphans, and they’d do whatever they could to protect her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baa-aack. Sort of.
> 
> Still a lot of setup in this chapter. There's a chapter coming up that I'm just ITCHING to write, but I can't until I write everything leading up to that chapter because I'm a weird writer that way. I tried the snowflake, and the scene thing with the cutouts (very messy!), but my brain apparently works best in tangled web chaos. I will say that the scene thing helped me let go of a plot-hole creating scene that I just loved in my head but would not work for this storyline. I guess I'll just have to write another story that CAN use that scene. Because, you know, I need TWO multi-chapter stories that I take forever to write and update.
> 
> Ahh, the addiction of fantasy literature. Light 'em up!


	16. Family Ties (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Korra gets closure

_“Katara!”_

_Korra turned in a full circle on the beach of volcanic sand, the alien sensation of grit creeping between her toes. The salty wind off the water blew her unbound hair and the hem of her long, blue dress. Her hands were curled into fists, her blue eyes alight._

_It had taken her a while to enter the In Between, breathing into her anger and fear instead of suppressing them, as Katara had taught her. Facing her pain usually blocked her, but her anger helped her break through the barrier. Korra could feel the rage wafting off of her skin, like steam on a winter’s day._

_When she’d seen her father’s tattoo on Saakorat, she’d immediately feared they’d walked into a trap. But, when she felt for his energy, she could tell he was not a mermaid or any other hybrid of sea creature. He had an unusually solid connection to the Source (for a human), but he was just that – human. Which begged the question: What was a human doing with a merman’s tattoo?_

_Or, what was a merman doing with a human’s tattoo?_

_When the latter question had first crossed Korra’s mind, she’d pushed back, blaming the direction of her thoughts on her current situation. She was pretending to be human, in a human village, in a human house, talking to a human shaman in order to help the human woman to whom she was connected. But the question kept nagging, chewing at the edges of her frayed emotions. When Saakorat said her father’s name, her heart had dropped, leaving a void for rage to fill._

_There were, after all, no coincidences._

_While Korra was making certain Asami was warm, she realized she didn’t know a lot about her father’s past. She knew he was from the North and the eldest son of the Chief of the North. He had come South to see if the Southern Oasis still existed, as humans had advanced too close to the Northern Oasis. He’d nearly died on the journey, and her mother – the daughter of the Chief of the South – had rescued him. No one had ever dared the journey since he arrived, and no word had come from the Northern Oasis._

_She’d been angry at Raava for mooring her to the human responsible for Yuri’s death. Now, Korra was angry at her parents and her elders for not telling her the truth, for allowing her to believe she was a full-blooded mermaid. She hated humans – they polluted the oceans, overfished, started useless wars. At that moment, she could feel the tides of war encroaching on the human shores. To think she was one of those war-mongering humans, that she was a blood relative of the very human responsible for starving merfolk and villagers alike – and she was dragging Asami right into the middle of it._

_“Katara!!” Korra could feel Katara’s presence. It pissed her off that the elderly mermaid shaman would not reveal herself. If they were going to survive, Korra needed the truth._

_“Katara!!! I know you’re here!!! Show yourself!!!” She looked up at the moon, nearly full in the night sky. The ancestors shifted above her, far beyond her reach. “Face me, Katara!!! No more hiding!!! No more lies!!!”_

_“She’s not coming.”_

_Korra whipped around when she heard the familiar voice, her anger subdued by shock. There, slender arms folded upon a large rock near the edge of the beach, floated her first love, a slight frown on her lips._

_“You’re too angry to talk to Katara right now.”_

_“Yuri?” Korra whispered. “I-is … is that you?”_

_“You always swim up,” Yuri continued, ignoring Korra’s question. “In my entire life, I’d only seen three merfolk swim up when they’re scared. Three. Guess who?”_

_Korra slowly walked closer. As her feet touched the water she felt her legs wanting to shift. She resisted the urge until she was kneeling on the opposite side of the rock. Her blue eyes never left the dark green ones looking back at her as her dress was replaced with sapphire scales. She frowned, her fingers a breath away from folded arms. “You knew.”_

_Yuri nodded. “I knew.”_

_“Why didn’t you tell me?”_

_“Because it doesn’t matter.”_

_“It matters to me.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Because!” Korra huffed. “I’m not like them!”_

_“We are them, Korra.”_

_“No. We evolved.” Korra stated. “Humans are greedy, polluting, destructive-”_

_“And we’ve never over-hunted? We’ve never overpopulated?” Yuri challenged, folding her arms across her chest. “In the thousands of years merfolk have swum in the waters of this planet, we’ve never screwed things up? You know why I like humans? Because they adapt. Because, despite how many times they fuck up everything, they still flourish.”_

_“At our expense! On the carcasses of thousands – millions – of extinct species!” Korra spread her arms wide as she gestured._

_“We are connected to greatest source of energy on our planet,” Yuri said. “We live within a few hundred feet of half of the source of what gives this earth life. We have the power to save drowning sailors; we have the power to save many other human lives. But we don’t. Instead, we isolate ourselves and point fingers. How does that make us better?”_

_“I-”Korra closed her mouth and looked down at her marked wrist. The silver coiled through the night air toward the human back in the village, hopefully still in bed beside her. She remembered how distraught Asami had been, how quickly the woman had vowed to fix the problem. The blue mermaid knew that was not an empty promise. If the belt were on the other hip, would she do the same for a strange human who’d insulted her and threatened her with weapons? She frowned as shame caused her ears to flush._

_“We are not ‘evolved’. We’re all human – some of us have flukes, some of us have feet.” A cool, pale hand rested on top of Korra’s. “Some of us have both.”_

_Korra shook her head, unwilling to continue the train of conversation. Another, more pressing question came to mind. “Why didn’t you let me see you sooner?”_

_“You weren’t ready to accept the truth.”_

_“And the truth is?”_

_Yuri fingered the silver thread that trailed from within Korra’s wrist. Malachite met sapphire with a rueful smile.  “You were never mine,” Yuri said softly. “Asami is your destiny. She’s always been your destiny.”_

_“My destiny,” Korra whispered, frowning down at the bright, silver line winding under the moonlight. “I thought you were my destiny.”_

_The two mermaids sat across from each other over the rough stone, the wind and waves filling the silence between them. Korra’s throat ached and her chest burned. She couldn’t hold back the tears that crept down her cheeks. She remembered all too well the weight of death in her arms, the heat of flames, the smell of burning hair and flesh and pitch, the heaviness of the torch in her trembling hand as she lit the funeral pyre._

_“I couldn’t save you,” Korra croaked through her tears._

_“That’s the nature of the sea,” Yuri whispered, her shoulders softening as her ink-black eyebrows wrinkled with regret. “It wasn’t your fault.”_

_A sob choked through the blue mermaid’s throat, and another, and another. She didn’t know when Yuri came to her, or how she ended up cradled in cool, long arms. Such details didn’t matter. What mattered to Korra was that Yuri was here. Korra could touch her skin, smell her hair, feel her fingers rub gentle circles on the living mermaid’s scalp. Her lover was here._

_And, yet…. Yuri wasn’t. As the tears dried and the sobs turned to sniffles, Korra could finally accept that fact. A pulse beat through the dead mermaid’s chest, but it was the pulse of the Source, of the energy that pulse through their entire world. It didn’t change. It didn’t skip a beat with a deep breath, or speed up with concern for Korra’s wails. This Yuri was not hers; her Yuri was gone._

_“She’s quite a catch,” Yuri said._

_Korra huffed into the silver mermaid’s neck, but allowed herself a small smile. “You just like her ‘cause she’s human.”_

_“I thought we’d moved past that,” Yuri scoffed, tugging Korra’s hair._

_Korra chuckled, but her smile quickly faded into a worried frown. “I’m worried about her. I’m not as good as Kya, and that human shaman didn’t do anything.”_

_“She’s fine,” Yuri cooed, now gently stroking brown locks. “She just needs rest. You both do.”_

_“What we need are answers.” Korra reluctantly sat up. She smiled wanly as cool thumbs wiped dried salt from around her swollen eyes. “The villagers are going hungry; a crazed kite-man is hunting Asami; that stupid generator is killing merfolk; and I think the shaman is planning a revolt against my father’s traitorous brother. I can’t shake the feeling that they’re all connected.”_

_“They are.”_

_“How?”_

_“Do you remember Yakone?”_

_Korra shivered. Now that was one merman whom she was glad had died before she was born. “I remember the stories about him, yeah. But, he’s been dead.”_

_“He had two sons,” Yuri reminded the younger mermaid. “Both half-human.”_

_“So? They were both banished – before we were born. They’ve probably been dead for years.”_

_“They’re alive.”_

_Blue eyes blinked, and Korra’s heart dropped into her stomach. “No,” she breathed. “But, why stab Asami? I thought they preferred their victims alive?”_

_“Because her father discovered their plans and attempted to stop them,” Yuri said. “Hiroshi nearly succeeded, before he was arrested.”_

_“And they think his daughter came here to finish the job,” Korra surmised. “So that’s where that kite-man came from. Poor man.”_

_“Don’t pity him.” Yuri’s green eyes were dark, her voice laced with venom as her lips curled. “He’s a mindless, soulless, killing monster who’s loyal only to Noatak. And he knows now who you are.”_

_“Good.” Korra cracked her knuckles. “Let him tell that pathetic excuse of a merman.”_

_“Korra, how do you think Noatak and Tarrlok survived banishment?” Yuri huffed. When Korra only shrugged her shoulders in response, the dead mermaid rolled her eyes. “They’re cunning; they’re manipulative; and they were rescued by the Water Tribe navy. They work for Chief Unalaq. As Tonraq’s daughter, you are the rightful heir to the Water Tribe throne. Once Unalaq finds out you exist….”_

***

Korra opened her eyes, blue irises dim in the dark. She wondered for a moment why her cave was so stuffy, until she remembered she was lying on a human bed under a canopy of tanned hides. The mermaid had to admit the pelts were of excellent quality. Even in the firelight she could see the small, even stitching combining the pieces of tiger seal, each striped hide carefully and evenly dyed with crushed blue sea urchin spines.

_It must’ve taken years to make these. And these bed covers, too._

Her hand slid across the pelt beneath her, admiring the softness of the short fur. The outside of her hand bumped against something solid. Korra turned her head to see the outline of a hide-covered mound, gently rising and falling in the dark. She suddenly realized that only half of her body was resting on hide; the half of her closest to the edge of the bed was lying on woven cloth.

Bemused, Korra raised an eyebrow at the slumbering lump. _How does she breathe under there?_

Almost as soon as Saakorat had closed the door, Asami had crawled under the covers, shivering in a blue tiger-seal covered ball. Korra had stoked the fire then climbed into bed beside the human woman, closing the hides surrounding the bed before she’d spooned the cold-natured bundle. It was entirely too hot to the mermaid, but she endured until Asami eventually stopped shaking, thin frame sighing as her muscles finally relaxed and she slipped into a peaceful sleep.

Korra sighed, watching the lump slowly rise and fall. It was a shock to see Yuri. She was still pissed at Katara (and Kya, and her parents). However, seeing Yuri – being able to touch her, talk to her – had eased her raw emotions. This time, when she’d left In Between, she’d been able to say goodbye, to leave her guilt in the past. She smiled as she remembered Yuri’s approval of Asami. It wasn’t necessary, but it was nice to hear.

Korra sat up, parting the curtain of hides on her side of the bed. The cooler air of the room was easier to breathe, but not by much. She eased out of bed and tiptoed across the room to a curtain of thick, woven cloth hanging on the wall, hoping it hid an opening to the outside.

Pushing the heavy fabric aside, she discovered a window. She fumbled with the lock until it finally lifted and she was able to pull the paneled glass open on one side. The fog was thick with white ice crystals reflecting the moonlight. She stuck her head into it, sucked it into her lungs. It was shockingly cold after the warmth of the bed-cave, and the moisture of the ice melting in her nose and throat was a welcome relief. It wasn’t the sea, but it calmed her.

“Korra?”

_Shit._ She hadn’t meant to wake up the sleeping woman. “Go back to sleep.”

“What’s wrong?” Asami asked quietly.

Korra shook her head, suddenly aware of the tangled state of her hair. She ran a hand through her wild tresses with a frown. “Nothing. Just needed some air.”

The mermaid heard rustling behind her. She wasn’t surprised when warm tiger seal fur brushed against her shoulder as she leaned against the base of the window. Korra looked up out of the corner of her eyes. Asami’s face was turned toward her. The woman’s eyelids were still puffy and dark, and her sclera were streaked with fine red lines. But her irises were still a bright, beautiful green.

“Wanna talk about it?” Asami asked.

Korra smirked and shrugged. Part of her yearned to talk to Asami, but part of her just wanted to go home to her cave. Even if she did decide to talk, she didn’t know what to talk about: Her father? Unalaq? Yuri? The tattoo? Their attacker? The generators? Their mooring? The way her stomach filled with butterflies each time she saw Asami’s smile?

Asami shivered against her, pulling the pelt tighter. Sighing, Korra closed the window.

“No,” Asami protested. “You don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do,” Korra interrupted, turning the hunched woman by the shoulders before herding her back to the bed. “We both need sleep. Come on.”

She knew it was the right decision when the taller woman didn’t protest. Korra could almost feel the guilty relief emanating from the woman. _Wait. I can feel what she’s feeling._ She focused on the faint sensations as they seeped from Asami’s chi: fatigue, guilt, worry, fear, confusion, determination – and, subtle but definitely present, desire.

 When they reached the bed, Asami slid back underneath the three woven sheets while Korra took the pelt and re-draped it over the bed. She decided to leave the curtains open so _some_ air could circulate. Once the woman was settled, Korra sat on top of the pelt in her previous spot, this time facing the human with her feet toward the pillows. She pulled her feet up until she could rest her chin on top of her knees, wrapping her arms around her lower legs. She frowned at how quickly she was adjusting to having legs and feet; her adaptation felt _too_ natural, in a way.

_Of course it feels natural, you idiot. You’re half human!_

Asami turned to face Korra’s feet, curling and twisting so she could see the mermaid’s face. Korra couldn’t help but smile at the small oval of sleepy face peeking out from underneath the covers. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

Korra pursed her lips as it occurred to her that the human woman might be her best source of information. “How much do you know about Water Tribe history?” Korra asked.

Green eyes blinked at the question. “I’m not a native, but I’ve read a few things,” Asami replied. “Why?”

“H-have you ever heard of … Tonraq?”

“The Lost Prince?”

“The lost prince?” Korra repeated, eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, he’s probably dead, not lost,” Asami clarified. “But Chief Sooraq refused to declare him dead or select another successor.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Kya never taught you this?”

“No. Maybe?” Korra shrugged as she realized Kya might have taught all of the calves, but she tended to tune out certain subjects. “I wasn’t that interested in human … anything. Unless it directly affected us.”

“Well,” Asami continued, “Tonraq was on a journey to the South with his brother, Unalaq. There was a bad storm, and Tonraq was thrown overboard. Some people claimed he was pushed by Unalaq, who wanted the throne. There’d been some sort of dispute between the brothers about the future direction of the Water Tribe. Chief Sooraq suspected foul play. He also firmly believed he would know in his spirit if his eldest son was truly dead, and refused to declare Unalaq as the new successor. To this day, Tonraq is still the true Chief of the Water Tribe.”

“Can’t Unalaq just declare himself Chief?”

“No. Only the council of elders can. Rumor has it they hate him, but they’re afraid of him, too. Since Tonraq’s body was never found, both the council and Unalaq have agreed to disagree and allowed Unalaq to rule as caretaker of his brother’s throne.”

“I never noticed before how much their system is like ours.”

“That makes sense,” Asami yawned. “Family units of hunter-gatherers dependent upon the migration patterns of aquatic wildlife.”

“Why isn’t the Southern Water Tribe independent? We’ve always been independent of the Northern Oasis.”

“There aren’t as many natural resources in the South. They don’t have the capital to amass a military defense.”

Korra frowned. If the villagers didn’t have anything to trade for weapons, and they didn’t have food, how were they going to defeat the Northern Navy? “How can they possibly hope to survive a revolt if they don’t have the resources?”

“They’re hoping for international assistance,” Asami mumbled. “Humanitarian response.”

“Poke the tiger shark and hope a killer whale rescues you?” Korra shook her head. “That’s not a revolt; that’s suicide.”

“People still remember the genocide of the Air Nation,” Asami yawned again, closing her eyes. “And the invasion of the South by the Fire Nation. General sympathy is with the Southerners.”

“So, why haven’t any of the other nations stopped Unalaq yet?”

“Fear.”

Korra waited for more from the parted pink lips, but she soon realized that Asami had drifted back to sleep. Sighing, she readjusted so that she was lying on her side, facing the small window of Asami’s peaceful face, framed in blue hide. She noticed faint freckles dotted along the woman’s nose and cheeks.

She thought about Asami’s words, and Yuri’s. As her eyes darted over the sleeping woman’s face, she wondered how they were going to save the world from her uncle’s greed. She lifted her hand and, gently, traced the outline of Asami’s lips. The silver line brightened, but no other light shone from the contact. Smiling, Korra pulled her hand back and lay still, waiting for sleep to carry her to morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. You knew it.
> 
> More Korra in the next chapter. I had to cut her perspective short when I saw I hadn't posted an update since February. :@!!!
> 
> As usual, corrections are welcome. My blurry, tired eyes can only proofread so much!


	17. Shade and Sun

A quiet moan escaped Korra as she opened her eyes. It was dark, the near-pitch black of a storm during a new moon. It was hailing outside, the small rocks of ice bouncing off stone as the wind tossed them through the frigid air.

She wasn’t sure what woke her up until a warm breath caressed her ear. She smiled into the dark – a slow, lazy smile. They had all day to indulge in one another. There would be no hunters’ horn during a hail storm on a late summer morning. Outside, it was cold and hostile. Inside, it was warm and dry in the safety of each other.

Korra turned her head, her mouth seeking the source of her arousal. Her eyes fluttered closed as soft lips met hers and they slid over each other in familiar rhythm. She sighed into the sensation as fingertips traced between her ribs. These were the moments she loved most, when she was certain she was loved – wanted – _needed_.

Strands of long hair tickled her nose. She suppressed a giggle as the scent of metal … and pitch? And … flowers? But … _not_ arctic lilies?

Blue eyes opened wide again but could only decipher shadow against shadow. The lips kissing her were right. The fingers grazing the underside of her breast were right. But that scent was wrong. Familiar – but _wrong_.

_I know that scent_. Suspicion cleared sleep from her muddled mind. Korra suddenly remembered she was in a human bed in a human home (of sorts). The fire had gone out while they’d slept, enshrouding the canopied bed in varying depths of black. And the female form kissing her was _not_ Yuri.

Firmly gripping the wrist of the hand under her borrowed tank top, Korra pulled away from the kiss. “Asami?”

“Korra,” Asami whispered into the quiet, breath warm against her ear and neck.

She couldn’t see the woman pressed against her, but there was no mistaking the desire in the tone. Korra swallowed, girding herself against the flood of emotion. “What are you doing?”

A low chuckle resonated from Korra’s ear to the junction of her legs. “Has it been that long?”

Korra choked back a whine as she fought against her own desire. It had been years since she’d felt the physical climax of skin against skin. She really (really) wanted to feel that again. _Now_. But, as with everything else the past few days, this was not normal. She knew Asami was attracted to her. She also knew the human wouldn’t be this – bold.

_She’s probably delirious with fever_ , Korra thought. _She certainly feels hot. Or, that could just be me_.

“You’re not fully healed,” Korra sighed, attempting to extract her pinned arm. “We should stop.”

In response, Asami shifted, pushing herself up on one arm. Korra moved her arm, then gasped as Asami pressed a thigh firmly between her legs. The sensation was intense, and she couldn’t help but roll her hips against the toned muscle as her freed hand fisted warm cloth.

“Do you _really_ want to stop?”

Korra groaned as a tongue teased the hollow of her shoulder while the thigh pressed harder into her apex. The delicious pressure was a new experience – one she was very keen to explore. And with Asami’s lips hovering over _that_ spot, the one that Yuri used to —

“Fuck!” Korra gasped as teeth sank into flesh. Her hands gravitated to hips, all sensible thought replaced with rolling waves of pain and pleasure. She clung to the woman above her, riding the shifting currents of teeth and lips and nails and fingers on neck and ribs and nipples by instinct. She knew this storm, knew its crests and troughs. The only change was the breath-taking addition of that firm thigh pressing into her core with every motion.

“Ssspirits,” Korra gasped. “A _sa_ -mi….”

Asami laughed again. “Still think being human is ‘stupid’?”

Blue eyes blinked against the dark as a cold, uneasy feeling settled beneath her ribs. “Wh-what?”

“I knew you’d come around.” Asami nibbled on her earlobe as she pinched her nipple. “You always do.”

Korra arched her back into the tug even as her mind recoiled. Alarms were wailing through her chi. She could feel her skin flickering, trying to glow against the unknown threat. She couldn’t focus. How could she? Asami was hitting every spot with practiced expertise, gentle and rough in all the right places at all the right times, as if … as if ….

She reversed their positions in a surge of fear-induced adrenaline, her heart pounding in her ears. She pressed her hands into Asami’s elbows, pinning the woman to the bed. Every cell of her skin and eyes glowed bright blue. Glinting in her light was a deep, dark green Korra could never mistake. “Yuri?”

The Asami-with-Yuri’s-eyes smirked beneath her. “Scaredy squid.”

“H-how? Wh-what-?”

Korra found herself on her back once again. She opened her eyes to find glowing malachites hovering just above her.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want this,” the woman murmured.

Korra cowered underneath the woman, eyes wide. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She watched in fascinated horror as Asami/Yuri’s lips crept closer to her own.

At the last moment, Korra closed her eyes. Suddenly, a bright, white light filled her vision and the pressure on her body vanished. Korra shot straight up in the bed, her lungs filling with air as she backpaddled against the wall from … no one.

She whipped her head from side-to-side. She was in the bed, in the room, in the human dwelling. The fire was out. It was hailing outside. A shadow of a lump was curled up in the bed beside her. A lump that, despite her violent actions, wasn’t moving.

A new panic gripped Korra. “Asami?” She put her hand on what she assumed was Asami’s shoulder under the fur cover. “Asami?” When the lump still didn’t respond, she shook it. Hard.

“Mm. Mm! Hm?” The lump squirmed and rustled away from Korra. Bluish skin and sharp, shadowed features eventually appeared from under tiger-seal hide. “What?” Asami mumbled. “What’s wrong?”

Korra realized she was glowing from the reflection of light in Asami’s green eyes. It wasn’t bright enough to be certain of the shade of green, so – on impulse – Korra formed a spark between her hands. The bright flash of white brought a gasp of surprise out of the human, emerald eyes focused on the light, pupils constricted so the yellow tint of the green was clearly evident.

_Thank the Spirits. It was just a dream_ , Korra thought, shoulders relaxing as the fear in her chest eased. _It felt so real_.

“How did you-?” Asami whispered as she extended a hand toward the light.

“Don’t!” Korra released the energy, being careful not to set the bed (or themselves) on fire.

“Sorry!” Asami recoiled from the heat before being lost to pitch black. “I’m sorry, I… What was…?” The invisible woman took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Korra whispered.

“Korra. You’re shaking.”

She hadn’t noticed, but she was indeed trembling so hard she was shaking the bed. Korra hugged her arms tight, suddenly very aware of the cold in the room. She looked up in the direction of rustling. “Where are you going?”

“Looking for the light switch,” Asami said, her voice heading toward the wall with the door. “It should be by the door. First, I have to find the door.” The sound of fur on stone was soon accompanied by a different, faster, whisper. “Ah-ha!”

Yellow light flooded the room. Korra squinted against it, glad for the curtained canopy. She watched through eyelashes as Asami returned to the bed, blue tiger-seal wrapped around her shoulders, tousled black waves framing a triumphant smile.

The smile shifted from triumph to concern as Asami drew closer. She unwrapped the cover as she climbed back into bed. She positioned herself next to Korra and draped the cover over the mermaid’s quivering shoulders. Once she’d carefully wrapped Korra’s entire torso, she sat flannel-to-fur, pulling the remaining cover around herself. “Better?”

Korra nodded.

“Bad dream?”

Korra nodded again, staring at the short, black hairs that formed a tiger-seal stripe.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Korra shook her head. Asami leaned a little more into her. They listened to the falling ice and howling wind of the summer storm. Korra preferred to stay in her cave during hail storms (she didn’t like being pelted with pebbles of ice), but at that moment she wanted nothing more than to dive into the ocean and swim until she was too exhausted to flap her tailfin.

_‘Don’t pretend you don’t want this.’_

Korra shuddered as the words replayed in her head. She had wanted it. She’d wanted it when she thought it was Yuri. She’d wanted it when she’d thought it was Asami. What weirded her out was when it turned out to be Yuri inside of Asami’s body. It was … _wrong_. As a dream, it kind of made sense. Sort of. She still missed Yuri, and Asami was very attractive. But….

She kept repeating in her mind how wrong it was. How sick and twisted to wish her ex-lover into another person’s body. She tried to keep herself from wondering … if it was possible.

_No, Korra. Don’t go there. How would you feel if someone’s spirit tried to take over your body_? She shivered at the thought.

“Okay,” Asami said, unwrapping herself. “Come on.”

Korra looked up, her eyebrows furrowed. “Where are we going?”

“There should be enough room at the foot of the bed.”

“‘Enough room’ for what?” Korra unwrapped herself and followed Asami off the bed.

“Your hand-to-hand combat skills are impressive.” Asami pulled an arm across her chest, stretching her upper arm. “But your footwork needs … work.”

Korra smirked, hoping her eyes conveyed how grateful she was for the physical distraction. “That guy was _invisible_. And I’ve only had these things for two days.”

“All the more reason to start your training,” Asami shrugged. “I’m not dead, so I’m fairly certain they’re going to try again.” Asami stood side-by-side with Korra, stepping away so there was an arm’s length between them. “First, your stance.”

\---

“Again.”

Korra shifted her feet and raised both hands to protect her face. She focused on the blue pillowcase wrapped around Asami’s upraised hand. She tightened her stomach and executed the latest combination of quick kicks the taller woman had taught her that morning.

As she puffed through the repetitions, Korra had to admit she was enjoying herself. She’d been a little unsteady at first but now she not only knew what a front roundhouse kick was, but could also kick almost as fast as Asami. Her foot went almost as high as Asami’s, too (almost. Asami was still longer – _taller_ ).

Pulling in her abs, Korra snapped the last two kicks as hard as she could. Asami pulled her hand back in anticipation, but she still hissed an “ow!” as she shook out her hand.

“Sorry,” Korra panted, hands on her hips.

“It’s fine,” Asami said, unwrapping the pillowcase with a bright smile and brighter green eyes. “That was _amazing_. It took me years to get to that level.”

“You’re a good teacher.”

“I suspect it has more to do with Magic and a lifetime of swimming against ocean currents,” Asami said, blushing. “But, thank you.”

Korra put her hand in her fist and bowed her head. “Thank _you_.”

Asami giggled and started stretching. Korra copied her stretches. “Any idea where Kya is?”

Korra shook her head. “I thought she’d find us before the storm came in.”

“Me, too.” Asami lifted a leg to stretch the front of her thigh, which reminded Korra of the uncomfortable stickiness between her own legs. “I hope she’s okay.”

“Mm,” Korra hummed in agreement, wobbling a little as she copied Asami’s pose. “I’d feel a lot better if a _real_ healer treated you.”

“I’m fine,” Asami yawned. “Just … a little tired.”

Korra glanced at the moon rune on her wrist. She hadn’t noticed until they were halfway through her training session that the silver ribbon had disappeared. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d looked for it since then, but there was no sign of it. She didn’t think it was present in her dream, either.

She was certain it was there before she’d fallen asleep. Its disappearance bothered her more than the dream (though, not by much).

_What if it wasn’t a dream? What if it’s a vision? Visions have meanings, though. What are the Spirits trying to tell me? I already know a sea-creature-person is trying to kill her. That’s too obvious-_.

“Korra?”

“Hm?” She looked over to see Asami standing with arms folded and eyebrows furrowed. Korra realized she’d been standing still, staring at her wrist. Apparently, she’d been lost in her thoughts long enough to make Asami worry. “Sorry.”

“You know,” Asami started, then her expression changed as a thought obviously changed her next words. “How about you teach me something?”

“Okay.” Korra shrugged. “Like what?”

“Hmm.” Korra looked up to see Asami tapping her chin with a long finger. Emeralds locked on sapphires as a smile spread across Asami’s face. “How about that light?”

Korra opened her mouth to refuse, but the eagerness in Asami’s expression stopped her. “Umm.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t know if I can _teach_ you. But, I guess, I can … _show_ you?”

Asami grinned, each perfect, white tooth on display. “Would you? Please?”

“Umm, yeah. Sure.” Korra looked around the room, gaze settling on the fireplace. “Okay.” She walked over to the ashen remnants. On the side of the fireplace sat a metal basket with firewood stacked within it. Grabbing a log, she used it gently knock off the cold, grey dust as she gathered her thoughts.

“A spark is easy, but I can’t slow it down to show you how to do it. Calves usually start making sparks – small ones – by accident.” Korra made a face. “They get pretty annoying at that stage. They think shocking everyone is hilarious.”

“So, that light was just static electricity?”

Korra looked at Asami. “What’s ‘static electricity’?”

“Oh. If a human rubs their feet on carpet and then touches something metal or another person, an electric charge travels between them. Sometimes you can see and hear the shock.” Asami smirked. “Human children do the same thing. I remember being sent to bed early without dessert after I shocked a party guest and she slapped the man standing behind her.”

Korra laughed. She could just imagine a miniature Asami in a puffy dress with a big bow on top of her head shocking unsuspecting adults as they stood around with glasses of champagne in their hands and their noses in the air. “Juveniles are annoying no matter the species.”

 “She brings it up _every_ time she sees me,” Asami said, wrinkling her nose.

“Sparks are used more for light or defense. Sometimes we use it to ignite pitch, but that can be … explosive,” Korra said. Only the few pieces of dark, scorched wood remained on the metal grate. Korra carefully stacked a couple of fresh logs upon them. She looked over at Asami. “Stay behind me.”

Korra got comfortable as Asami repositioned. She sat on one outer thigh with her knees bent as if her legs and feet were still her beloved blue-scaled tail and flukes. Forcing herself to focus, she held both hands over the wood as if she were holding a ridiculously large bowl by its sides.

“We usually start fires the same way ancient humans did, with flint and friction,” Korra said. “But, in a pinch, we have another option.”

She inhaled as she sought the Magic within herself. There wasn’t as much as she’d like, but It was more than enough for this. The mermaid drew what she needed and slowly exhaled as she focused the Magic into a tiny silver spark hovering in the space between her hands. She knew Asami couldn’t see It spinning, but that would change as it grew. With a little encouragement, It began to spin faster and faster, creating a whirlpool of energy around It.

“It’s push and pull. You push energy out with one hand, and pull energy back in with the other,” Korra said as she felt the heat increase between her hands. “I’m using Magic like a magnet to draw water into a whirlpool.”

Feeling the water in the wood was easy. Using the heat beginning to build between her hands, she coaxed the water out of the wood and into the tiny whirlpool. Bringing her hands a little closer together, she felt the speed and heat increase. A slight hissing accompanied the release of air from the spinning water.

“You have to curve your hands _just_ right, so it keeps circling and you don’t lose any of it,” Korra said. “Water stores the sun’s energy. If you spin water really fast, it gets _really_ hot. The smaller the whirlpool, the faster it spins. The faster it spins, the hotter it gets, until it’s as hot as the sun.” She forced more air out of the whirlpool by bringing her hands a little closer, and a little closer, until she could see the water begin to glow.

Asami gasped behind her. She could feel the human woman move closer, hovering over her shoulder. Hoping her warning was heeded, she gradually closed the space between her hands, compressing the swirling purplish ring into a swirling purplish ball until a brilliant white light flashed from the center. She channeled it into the wood, which immediately burst into flames.

Korra placed her palms on the cool floor to push herself back a safe distance from the fire, but was impeded by Asami’s body. She turned to see narrowed green eyes staring at the flames, the shadows casting a dark hue that reminded the mermaid too much of her dream/vision.

“Aaannd, that’s a solar flare. A very tiny one.” Korra watched the human woman’s face for any change in expression. “Asami? Are you okay?”

“Fusion.” Asami looked over at her. Korra felt a confusing mix emotions flow from her. “Cold fusion. Cold. Fucking. _Fusion_.”

“Umm?”

“I told you I designed the generators to be eco-friendly? I’ve invested _a lot_ into clean energy. It’s … kind of my ‘thing’. I have an entire department dedicated solely to nuclear fusion. The theory – as usual – is years ahead of the technology. We’ve made progress, but….” Asami laughed, shaking her head. “It’s _nothing_ close to what you just did. At room temperature. In the _palm_ of your _hands_.”

“Magic isn’t nuclear energy,” Korra said. She’d seen what the military’s experiments could do to sea life. “The Source doesn’t _hurt_ us.”

“You’re thinking of nuclear _fission_. Fission splits apart the nucleus of a large, unstable atom. Nuclear _fusion_ forces two hydrogen atoms to combine, forming helium,” Asami explained. “It’s a common misconception, as the end-products of both reactions are huge amounts of energy – mostly as heat – and biologically hazardous subatomic particles, also known as ‘ionizing radiation’ or ‘radioactive waste’. The radioactive waste from a _fission_ reactor can take centuries to stabilize, and it’s so reactive that a small amount can trigger massive explosions.”

Korra raised an eyebrow at the genius. “What?”

Asami sighed. “I’m just-” She put her hands on her head, growled through her teeth, then waved her hands in a disturbing spasm with emerald eyes wide before thrusting her hands toward the fire. “Fusion! Hands!” She threw her hands up in the air. “ _Children_ can do this!”

“ _Calves_. With practice, yeah, eventually. The key is to pull in just enough water – too little and it won’t ignite, too much and it blows up in your face. Literally.” Korra winced. “I lost an eyebrow once. We don’t do it often. It’s safer to spark a bit of pitch with flint. _A lot_ safer.”

“Korra.” Asami placed a hand on Korra’s clothed knee. Her gaze was intense, and the mermaid felt her skin flush. “I think you just helped me solve the generator problem.”

“Really?” Korra’s heart skipped a beat. “How?”

“Well.” Asami briefly pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she glanced to the side. Korra suddenly found the heat of the fire excessive. “To really explain it, I’d have to go in depth on how induction cooktops work, buuuut….” Green eyes reconnected with blue. “Long answer short is copper and a buttload of super-powered antioxidants.”

Blue eyes blinked, then Korra’s entire face wrinkled. “What?”

“You blush,” Asami chuckled. “You have hemocyanin, but you _blush_. Copper turns bluish-green when it oxidizes. But the blood under your skin is obviously reddish, which shouldn’t be possible if it’s ferrying oxygen throughout your body. Which means there’s _something_ that prevents that electron exchange.”

“I’m still not following.”

“You breathe air underwater. You create magnetic fields with alternating currents. You’ve evolved to manipulate your environment on a subatomic level without conscious thought. It’s self-regulated when you’re not thinking about it, but you can also control it at will. Like, well, breathing,” Asami explained. “You recognized the diss-pro-see-uhm in those magnets because of their subatomic particles – their electrons. You also recognized that something was different between that diss-pro-see-uhm and the one in your ‘Source’. I’m willing to bet they’re different isotopes. Same element, different properties.”

“Asami.” Korra sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with her finger and thumb. “That’s all really fascinating and you’re obviously really, _really_ smart–”

“Sorry,” Asami said, holding up her hands. “You used magic earlier to speed up the magnets, but it was draining you at the same time, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Magic has direction, like the magnetosphere. Right?”

“Yeah?”

“Electromagnetic fields can be filtered,” Asami said. “If we find the right polarization – that filters the electromagnetic waves of the isotope in the generators but doesn’t impede the electromagnetic waves of the isotope in the Source – then you won’t feel the effects of the generators’ magnets.”

“A filter? Like, a mask?”

“I’d have to run tests to see what form works best. It may be as simple as a necklace or belt.” Asami shrugged. “I need stomach bismuth, a car battery, coffee filters, and aluminum foil.”

“You’re serious.”

“I’m 95 percent sure it will work.” Asami nodded, still smiling. “We can test it in the bath house.”

“Bath house?”

“Trust me. We _both_ need a bath,” Asami said, standing up. “Let me do the talking. It shouldn’t be hard to get the materials. And a change of clothing. They seem to practice typical Southern hospitality….”

Korra looked up at the human woman. “You’re serious. You’re actually fucking serious.”

“I’ll explain in the bath house,” the human woman said as she turned and headed for the door. She looked over her shoulder when she realized the mermaid wasn’t following her. “ _Come on_. I need to pee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am debating if I should change the rating from "mature" to "explicit".
> 
> I am beginning to feel more like myself these days. I cannot express how hard it was to get back into the heads of these characters. I'm hoping I can get back to a reasonable updating schedule.
> 
> Any thoughts/predictions/opinions/scientific critiques are welcome. I'm not a physicist, nor are any of my friends/colleagues. However, don't expect me to rewrite any of this. It's still a non-layout writing experiment. And -- There be Magic!!!


End file.
